She's My Kind Of Rain
by ShatterEveryWindow
Summary: Orphaned daughter of world-famous parents, Renesmee, stumbles unsteadily through a life of high standards. But one summer, after her entire existence being kept under wraps, the covers threaten to pull off when she's LITERALLY run over by Hollywood heartthrob, Jacob Black while with her aunt in Los Angeles. Can he help or hurt the thick emotions that are embedded into her blood?
1. Track 1: That Song In My Head

**A/N: **Thank you so much for reading! It means so much to me, you have no idea! I realize that the elements used in this story may seem frilly, and girly, and very chick-flicky - or not at all, depending on how you look at it - but I assure you, that the three main things in this story are pain, grief, and romance, so I hope that you stick around to read the upcoming chapters - there's a lot planned! Please check out **Cassia4u**, by the way, she will leave you breathless, I promise you that!

Also, you will notice that each chapter - along with the entire story altogether - is named after a song, well, I meant to do that. Each chapter is named after a well fitting or suited song that makes each chapter a "Track" like on a playlist. So by the end of the story, you will have a play list that is actually going to be the list of songs that all are all on a mixed tape that is featured in this story. I hope that you love them as much as I do, or at at least one of them!

So, with that out of the way, please enjoy, you guys are amazing for checking this out, thank you so much! :D

* * *

_She's my kind of rain_

_Like love from a drunken sky_

_She's confetti falling down all night_

_She sits quietly there_

_Back water in a jar_

_She says baby why are you trembling like you are_

_So I wait _

_And I try_

_I confess like a child_

_She's my kind of rain_

~ She's My Kind Of Rain, Tim McGraw

* * *

**Prologue:**

**March, 1999**

"Edward, are you _sure _that she doesn't feel…ya' know, _abandoned _with us leaving her all the time? We can't always send her off to your parents, you know," Bella reminded her husband.

They'd been arguing about the subject for the last hour, having boarded a flight to Seattle after Edward won an Oscar for Best Actor, as well as his latest film having taken home Best Picture. He was always shocked at the reaction that he got from the world, even though he took the planet by storm with his first box office hit at the mere age of nineteen. Edward Cullen was a commonly used household name, known to all ages, and was currently the United States' most sought after Hollywood heartthrob, with his tousled bronze colored hair that made the women swoon, his fair skin that topped any suntan, and his excited, bright green eyes.

Bella wasn't so bad off herself either. She'd tried her hand at acting in high school, but quickly discovered that the spotlight was not her forte. She wasn't capable of the skills of an actress, but couldn't get away from the theater, trying out directing, finally having found her calling. She, unlike most directors, skipped any build up to a production, and had directed her first music video by the end of her junior year of high school. There were several demands for her direction of multiple blockbuster cast movies in Los Angeles, having directed four box office hits by the time she was just twenty one.

The two starlets met on set of one of Isabella's earlier movies, when she co-directed an action flick, _Guns and Adrenaline _**(A/N: Not too good of a title but it's a **_**New Moon **_**reference.) **with her close friend, Angela Weber, when they cast Edward as their lead role. The two married young, after just one year of dating, soon having their first child, Renesmee Carlie Cullen not too long after.

"Bella." Edward looked at his wife with kind eyes. "She's still young, she's only five, but she _is _old enough to understand that her childhood is far different from most children her age. She knows that we love her more than anything, and we'll see her in just a few hours. Don't worry, love."

Bella tried to reason with herself, unable to think of anything but misleading her daughter. "But don't you think that maybe we could take her with just _once_? I really think that she'd like to see the -"

"No, Bella, "Edward interrupted, knowing where she was getting at. He thought about his sweet daughter, her brown doe eyes that resembled Bella's were always so excited to see them when they walked in the door, a childlike, pink rosiness at her cheekbones. He couldn't expose that angelic face to the world, not now, not _ever_. He assured himself that she _would _have a real, normal childhood. "Bella, I don't want her to grow up with cameras constantly being thrusted in her face. No child should have to go through that."

"We wouldn't have to stay in L.A.; we could stay in a suburb, perhaps Santa Clarita? Or -"

"Bella, I don't want the paparazzi to follow her as they do us, I don't even like it _now_, they'd probably scare the hell out of her," He tried to explain, looking out the small window beside him, blackness surrounding the plane. "We'll see her in a bit, and you'll see that she's fine." He turned to give his wife one light kiss on the top of her head, feeling as if they'd been through and through the same conversation a million times by now. "I love you," He murmured.

Bella sighed, turning to peck Edward on his perfectly shaped lips. "I love you too." She then nestled into his arm, closing her chocolate eyes as she ignored the eyes of sleepy flight attendants, who ogled at the famous pair that kept to themselves.

One of the attendants walked up to them holding a napkin. "Um, excuse me, could I please have your autograph? I'm a _huge _fan," one of the attendants asked, twisting her shoulder length blonde hair in her fingers.

Bella's eyes opened at the sound of a woman asking a question that she'd heard what seemed like a million times - and it was probably something close to that. "Sure," Her husband smiled, causing the attendant's heart to jump erratically. "Who do I make it out to?"

"Alison," She answered almost immediately, trying to keep her cool.

"Alison," he mused, scribbling his name elegantly on the napkin, then handing it back to her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bella's watchful expression, taking her hand in his to assure her that she was still all that he ever saw.

"Thank you _so _much," Alison seemed unable to keep her enthusiasm contained, turning to leave as the plane shook, causing her to stumble slightly.

Bella almost thought that it was just her reaction to Edward, but her thoughts changed when a male voice came over the intercom. "We are experiencing some turbulence; please make sure your seat belts are on, thank you."

The plane shook violently once more.

* * *

"Renesmee, dear, why don't you go get your pajamas on, it'll be bedtime soon," Esme urged her granddaughter, who rushed up the steps, her bronze curls bouncing behind her. Esme turned on the TV, just in time for the news.

"Breaking news!" A brunette woman with a khaki trench coat stood in front of an unidentifiable wreckage of white. "An Alaska Airline plane, whose destination was set for Seattle, has just crashed - "

Esme froze. Her son and daughter-in-law were supposed to fly to Seattle tonight from Los Angeles. They'd flown out just two days earlier, having to attend the Annual Academy Awards. She tuned out everything around her and listened in.

"The plane was said to have been about to start its landing, but after experiencing extreme turbulence and doing a blood test on the pilot, there was lingering alcohol in his system. He is one of the few survivors of the wreck, but under severe condition. Reportedly, two of the passengers of the plane were world famous actor, Edward Cullen, and his wife and director, Isabella Swan." She listened to her earpiece, pressing it harder into her ear, as if it could change the information transmitted through it. "I have just received the unfortunate news that they weren't one of the lucky survivors," She said, winded. "The world is grieving, as we speak, thirty passengers killed instantly, with many more in critical condition. We'll be right back wi -"

Esme switched off the TV as if it had shocked her, cupping her hand over her nose and mouth, tears streaming down her face as she sat on the white couch of her gigantic living room. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to believe her ears, trying to tell herself that they were alive and well, that they would walk through the front door any second and scoop up their only daughter in a warm and loving embrace.

"Grandma?" Renesmee reached the foot of the steps in footie pajamas, holding a worn, pink blanket in her tiny hands. She rushed over to her grandmother, shaking her knee anxiously.

Esme wrapped an arm around Renesmee's shoulders. "It'll all be okay, sweetie, we'll be fine." She seemed to be trying to assure herself more than her confused and worried granddaughter. Esme looked down at her sweet, porcelain face whose doe eyes stared right back up at her of total innocence and kindness. The image reminded her of the faces of her son and daughter-in-law - her _dead_, son and daughter-in-law. She burst into harder tears when she realized that she may had lost a child, but the little girl in her arms lost _everything_; and she didn't even know it yet.

* * *

**Chapter 1: That Song In My Head**

**Present day**

**Renesmee POV**

"Renesmee!" Alice nearly screeched, rushing over to me. I lugged my one suitcase that she told me to bring, claiming that we'd have a shopping spree the second I got here, so I basically just had to bring the necessities. For the past twelve years, I'd been flying out to spend the summers with my aunt, Alice, who was a world-famous fashion designer, who resided in Los Angeles, California. Of course, the _rest _of the world knew her as Mary Alice Brandon, deciding not to go with Cullen so that she'd be less likely to be compared to her brother, my dad. When she got married, she changed her real name to Whitlock, but kept her 'stage name,' I guess you could say, as Brandon, so there would be no confusion with the public. But regardless of what she went by, I would always know her as my sweet Aunt Alice. The main reason for my visits was so that she wasn't always so alone, with being married to a man in the military, a pure gentleman, but also the very goofy, Jasper Whitlock. They hadn't had gotten around to having kids yet, and neither would have the time to take care of any, with their busy schedules, and all, so it was just the pixie-like and tiny Alice alone in their enormous house.

My other aunt and uncle currently lived in New York. My dad's side of the family tended to be very talented in the arts, but my uncle Emmett decided to dedicate his life to _protecting _art - literally. He married a supermodel, Rosalie 'Rosie' Lillian Hale, who'd retired of her short career, and were currently raising a little two year old boy named Jaden, who had bright blue eyes, blonde hair like his mom, that curled out in unexpected directions also like his father's, also receiving his easy smile with the look of mischief clearly glinting in his features. He was Emmett through and through, needless to say. He was my only cousin, and I'd loved every second that I got to spend with him, but I never saw him often, just the occasional holiday. Since Rosalie's retirement, she'd been managing the career of an up-and-coming male model, Nahuel. To say that he was a douche, would be an understatement. He was cocky and arrogant, and didn't give anyone without a pretty face the time of day. I'd met him once, Rosalie - grudgingly - attempting to set me up with him under his orders, trying to keep her client happy, but to no avail. I mean, sure, it was _kind of _flattering that he saw me as worth his time, but if these were the type of eyes that I caught, I wasn't sure I liked it.

Since I was five, I'd been raised by my grandparents, Carlisle and Esme Cullen, for my parents had both been killed in a fatal plane accident when I was young. I didn't remember them well, just their faces, and that they loved me very much, as I did them, too. Every once in a while, I'd remember something of an event between the three of us back when they were around, but the glimpses of the past were always gone as fast as they had come. I kept a locket of the three of us around my neck at all times. It was apparently given to me the Christmas before they were gone. Delicately carved on the shiny surface of it was, "Plus que ma propre vie," meaning "More than my own life," in French.

I'd lived my whole life as a shadow, hidden, kept under wraps, to abide by my father's rule of keeping me out of the world's eye, he having longed for me to live a normal childhood. What he never got the chance to realize is that by saying that he only made my life miserable, uneventful. I couldn't go and see people, tell them all about my life and my story, all because of his retarded little rule. Carlisle and Esme had wanted to keep his word; so they did.

Of course, I'd heard all of the stories but that never stopped me from asking again and again what they were like. My mother was a successful director, Isabella Swan, who had different styles of creating images than any other, because she thought of things from a different point of view, causing much demand for her skills, my Grandmother had told me. I had her large, chocolate brown eyes, but otherwise, I possessed no other _physical _evidence that I was her daughter. All other visible parts of me were my father, Edward Cullen. I inherited much from him, his bronze hair that was more brown than red, the structure of my face, my skin tone and texture. Although, the curls that I called hair came from my grandpa, Charlie, who had stopped speaking to my mother when she'd decided to move to Los Angeles to shoot for the unrealistic. My father was an actor, and a very talented one at that. On the night of their death, both he, _and _my mom had picked up _Oscars _for their talents in movie making. I'd been told that he was that heartthrob that always made the girls swoon, who always had the sparkle in his eye, and that gleam in his smile.

Today, that was commonly any famous guy with abs, or pretty eyes, or even nice hair who showed up on the cover of a magazine, like my issue of _Seventeen_, for example. I know, I know, it seems shallow to carry _that _around when your family owns an island, but I really only read it to look into other people's lives, _normal _girls. There were stories about them all the time. However, the male actor who rocked the cover of the issue in my sweaty hand, an old one, I had just grabbed the first one that I'd found in my room, was the bronze-skinned Jacob Black. He was said to be the kindest, most grounded actor in modern Hollywood.

_Right_, and I'm the Easter Bunny.

I mean, don't get me wrong, he was hot and all, with his washboard eight-pack, bulging biceps, tanned skin, and cropped, raven hair that looked so silky that you just wanted to run your fingers through it, but no _way _did he not let all of the fame and fortune go to his head. He had girls following his every footstep, asking autographs, asking for a picture, even asking for him to _marry _them. So what if you're the only star who actually _doesn't _have a _Twitter _or _Facebook_? That somehow makes you down to earth? I didn't think so.

Regardless, I _did _have my share of fandom for the guy. I mean, he _did _have talent, if nothing else. He was most well known for his role as fallen angel, Patch Cipriano in the _Hush, Hush Saga _franchise **(A/N: Well . . . he fits the part, does he not?)**, almost instantly making him an overnight teenage phenomenon. Ever since, he was _the _common household name, his face plastered all over magazine covers, movies, and now officially the wallpaper of thousands of girls' bedroom walls, not to mention cell phones, laptops, iPods, and the like.

"Hey, Alice," I smiled at my aunt, taking in her still short disarray of spikes of ink black hair, her brown eyes, fair skin, like mine, and also like me, our similarity in height. The only reason that she seemed even _remotely _average in that department was because she was wearing five inch Stilettos, which _still _made her short. But she could pull it off, graceful and elegant as she walked, a _clunk, clunk _sound following her footsteps, unlike me, who stumbled my way through life, like I'd been told my mother had.

"How is my favorite niece?" She asked out of courtesy, reaching out for a dainty hug.

"You mean your only niece?" I corrected, chuckling. "She's fine. You?"

"I'm fantastic, Sweetie, thanks. Now, I was thinking, do you want to go home, and then go shopping after that? Or just wait until tomorrow?" Her brown eyes were hopeful, and I could tell that she wanted to go as soon as possible, so I answered in her favor.

"Today is fine," I answered simply, watching as her eyes danced. I resisted a low chuckle, and we started to haul off my stuff to her car - a canary yellow Porsche 911 Turbo, to be exact.

She didn't seem to realize that owning a less conspicuous car could help her issue of privacy.

Once we were in, Alice sped off and out of LAX.

* * *

"You ready to go?" I called as I came down the giant marble staircase with my purse, finally having gotten settled into one of the four guest bedrooms. Well, if you called throwing my small amount of luggage under the bed getting settled, then that's what I did. I tugged the strap of the purse further onto my shoulder as I finally reached the bottom, moving across the large space that was open in front of the foyer. Jasper must've felt like he'd died and gone to heaven every time he came home to this.

"About that," Alice said as she met me at the edge of the stainless steel, black, and white themed kitchen, her face extremely apologetic, but her eyes excited. I could almost see her thoughts flying by at a million miles an hour. "My friend Irina called, and she was wondering if I wanted to meet her and her sisters downtown for drinks -"

"You should go," I interrupted, urging her to go have fun. "I'll be fine, I wasn't completely finished unpacking yet, and wanted to maybe take a shower or something to relax from the long plane ri -"

"Thanks, honey!" Suddenly her skinny arms were around my neck, holding me in a tight but brief hug. "We'll go shopping tomorrow, I _promise_!" She called as she booked it up the stairs.

Ah, Alice. So sweet, so innocent. She was always girly, responsible, and a bit annoying sometimes, but still tolerable, but despite that, when she partied, she partied _hard_. I don't remember how many times I'd had to run to her room with the _Excedrin _last summer, eventually getting to the point where I just kept it in the drawer on the nightstand so that whenever she became a hangover victim, I could get it to her sooner. I supposed that she only did it because she missed Jasper overseas, but she always seemed to enjoy herself. It's not like she had a drinking problem or anything, of course not, it's just that she was a party girl sometimes.

In less than two minutes, she was rushing back downstairs with a slimming, black mini dress by _Gucci _that was strapless and had a corset form at her torso. It was a dress that was _meant _for women in their twenties, a model perhaps. But, even at her age, seeing it on Alice, I couldn't imagine anyone pulling it off better. "Bye, honey, sorry I cancelled on you! Like I said, I _promise _that we _will _tomorrow!" she said urgently as she kissed my cheek and left through the mahogany French doors to her car.

I looked to the digital clock on the microwave. 5:02PM. It was kind of a surprise that she would take off at such an early hour for an evening on the town, but then again; because it was _Alice_, was exactly why it was _not _a surprise. I trudged up to my room and wandered around the area. I always stayed in this room, mainly because of the balcony. If I were to walk out there, I could look two floors down to where the chlorine filled pool sat still with unmoving water, especially at night when it reflected the stars that shined above and the moon that lit the dark sky. Everything about the room was exquisite. The balcony that had to be entered through by narrow French doors, the king size bed with pale golden sheets and a canopy over it, while the headboard, the color of dark chocolate, contrasted the cream colored wall behind it. The walls were bare, which normally kind of bland, but with the way that the room was pieced together, I felt that it held a simple elegance that shouldn't be messed with, as if adding anything extra would have sent it overboard. The soft carpet matched the comforter, spreading from wall to wall. All of the room accessories matched the headboard, dark chocolate for the dresser, the lamp, the side tables, even the small woven loveseat that sat on the balcony outside. There was also a walk-in closet that remained bare for the time being until tomorrow when we finally made it to the designer stores that Alice looked forward to going to.

I spotted my _New Balance _tennis shoes lying next to the bed, and suddenly was shrugging out of my clothes, pulling on some spandex before slipping on the shoes. After grabbing twenty bucks along with my phone, just in case, I started a slow jog from the house.

As far as physical ability went . . . who am I kidding? It didn't go far at all! I had _no _balance, and somehow always managed to fall on my face at the worst times possible, couldn't hit - or catch for that matter - a ball worth a crap, had _zero _hand-eye coordination, and two left feet. Though there was one physical activity that I wasn't half bad at, which was running. My dad had apparently been a great runner, fast for his age. Fortunately, that trait was passed onto me, giving me at lease _one _thing to not fail in. I used it as my ultimate way of fitness, hurting myself with just about anything else, probably because I had _no _muscle, but that was beyond the point. Though it's not like I ran cross-country or anything, I'm not _that _good, just enough to keep my endurance up.

I peered around the neighborhood, as I jogged, glancing at the houses, none of them quite measuring up to the excellence of the Whitlock house, but still, stunningly beautiful houses, each different, unique, different sizes, colors, shapes, not one able to be replicated. One caught my eye as I passed. It was smaller than the others, fairly urban, but didn't seem to fit in with this private neighborhood. It clearly didn't have as much effort put into it as the rest, probably the last to be built, kind of just thrown together in comparison to the others, but that's what I liked about it. It gave it character. I could smell smoke and burgers coming from the opposite side of the tall fence that would take two of me to see over, my mouth watering at the scent, causing me to realize just how parched my throat was.

I kept jogging, finally coming across a little general store that seemed to be reserved for this neighborhood alone. You never saw things like this back in Forks, so it was a bit odd to suddenly see a small gas station in front of a store right in the same location as where I'd been marveling over the houses and mansions in the area, contrasting greatly.

I walked into the store, thankful that I'd brought money with me so that I could buy a water bottle. I grabbed the first brand of water that I saw from the refrigerated section, feeling the cool chill that radiated from the door as I opened it. I didn't even look at it much, just walking to the man at the counter, looking to be just a few years older than me, probably twenty, as he looked up from his comic book, a bit flustered when he saw me. He took his glasses off, what seemed unknowingly, and placed them on the counter behind him. He must not see many people throughout the day.

"H-how can I help you?" He stuttered, standing as he raked a hand through his sandy colored hair.

I placed the bottle on the counter, smiling politely. "I'd just like to get this water bottle, please."

He shook his head, blinking his eyes a few times as he rung it up. "Two fifty-four, please," he said as he cleared his throat, looking back to me again, a slight bit of excitement in his face.

I whipped out my twenty dollar bill, accidentally dropping my phone in the process. "Oops," I muttered, slapping the bill on the counter top, bending down to retrieve it.

Suddenly I was thrown into the wall of the counter, my head audibly smacking against the wood paneling, while my arm scraped against a nail that jutted out from the wood, not having been hammered in all the way. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry!" A husky voice sounded shocked, the voice now closer to my ear as I squeezed my eyes shut. Something warm dripped down my arm as I winced. "Oh, God," the strangely familiar voice repeated again. "Here."

Suddenly there were arms under my body, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. I heard a door shut behind the stranger, when I was suddenly placed on something that felt hard and cold through my spandex. I tried opening my eyes. "Gah!" I snapped my eyes shut again, when the brightness of what I now noticed was a unisex restroom stung my pupils. A pounding in my head told me to be cautious, wary of endangering myself further.

I didn't realize how shaky my voice was until moments later when the voice spoke softly again. "You may wanna keep your eyes shut."

"Thanks for the heads up," I muttered sarcastically, pressing my palm to my forehead. I felt a wet paper towel running down my arm, the one that had been bleeding earlier. I didn't notice the sting until the water entered the gash. I hissed.

The masculine voice chuckled. He seemed to pause for a moment. "You okay, I really didn't mean to run you over like that, I'm _so _sorry, you have no idea."

I slowly opened my eyes, keeping my gaze low, cautious. "Yeah, it's fine, seri - oh!" When I finally looked up to his face I nearly fell of the edge of the sink. I don't know what I was expecting, but it surely wasn't this.

Bronze arms caught me almost instantly, steadying me and then stepping back again as if he'd done something wrong. "What's wrong?"

I put my face in my hands. "Oh, my God, this is just great, just -" I looked up to check again, only to see the same face there, looking all too familiar, but never having seen an image that did any justice. "I'm hallucinating! I just know it! I hit my head, and now I'm hallucinating. Aw, hell, this isn't gonna be good. Alice is gonna be pissed, I can -"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. _What_?" He looked down with the most confused expression. His deep brown, almost black eyes were curious, concerned, his glossy, jet black hair perfectly gelled into place, his tan skin glowing even in the dim, flickering light of the, to be honest, _shady _looking restroom. There was a stark contrast between his white V-neck and his dark complexion, but the difference was reeled in by his black jeans. The look was so simple, but no one could've ever looked better in it. There was some unfathomable look in his eyes that grew and grew as he stared into my own brown ones, that told me for sure that this wasn't real. "You're _hallucinating_?"

I nodded slightly. "I'm sure of it."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because you're Jacob Black."

I half expected for him to stare at me like I was insane, but his eyes held a concern that made him more serious, with a softness that seemed to bore into me, holding my gaze. I couldn't look away, despite the fact that my head still hurt. "Just because that's who I am, doesn't mean that you're hallucinating," he grinned, a bright smile that I hadn't _ever _seen him display for any camera. It seemed genuine, himself. Not that _I _could judge when I didn't even know him.

"Minus the fact that meeting you wouldn't ever happen to me," I mumbled, realizing that I sounded like an obsessed fan who had his face plastered all over my room, and his last name tacked onto mine in some diary - which I _didn't_, for the record. My walls were actually more bare than a hairless cat.

He sighed like he'd been through and through this before. "Well, it had to happen to somebody, why not you?"

I thought it over for a second, gathering my thoughts. Jacob Black, _the _Jacob Black, was standing in front of me. _The _Jacob Black had plowed me over. _The _Jacob Black helped me. _The _Jacob Black was waiting for an answer as I was lost in thought. "So you're really here? I'm not imagining that there's a leprechaun dancing next to you?"

His face grew worries, his eyes on the verge of panic. "Err, maybe we should get you to a doctor…"

"I'm kidding," I laughed, finally having a grip on things.

He cocked his head to the side, annoyed, but unable to help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "That's _so _not funny."

I chuckled, watching him in amusement, still in slight shock that could be from either the blow or the fact that he was here. I didn't _like _how I reacted, but it just kind of happened. I'd just been toppled over, hitting my head, and getting a bloody gash on my arm, and then saw the world's biggest teenage actor? Like _anyone _would expect me to act correctly. I tried to make conversation. "So . . . why the rush?"

He frowned, looking down. "Supposed to be a private neighborhood, but I guess that some of the paparazzi moved in. I saw them following me, so I pulled in here, and then ran for the door . . . And then into you." He frowned at the end.

I nodded, hopping down from the sink, reaching for the cold door handle. "You need a ride home? Just so we know that I don't do any more damage, I mean," he offered, his hand covering the door opening so that he could say what he needed to.

"What makes you think that I didn't drive here?" I inquired, raising my eyebrows in suspicion.

"The lot's empty, if I didn't know any better, I'd think that I'd just entered a ghost town - so ghostly that there's no other stores." He chuckled at his own lame joke, though I found myself smiling with him. "So do you?"

I knew that it wasn't right to oblige, getting into a car with a guy that I didn't know, but I felt compelled to say yes. Morally, I was about to object before he interrupted. "I insist."

Well, if he _insisted_ . . .

He guided me to his car, his hand on the small of my back, causing me to be much more aware of that fact than I should've been, my jaw nearly dropping at the sight in front of me.

I didn't speak car, so I don't know what I would expect out of someone like Jacob, but I was sure that nobody would ever expect _this_. A red, compact car sat before us, looking a bit too old of a model to belong to a Hollywood actor. It seemed run down, but, like the house that I'd passed, it had character.

Jacob noticed my stare and started grinning like crazy. "Built it myself," he said smugly, sounding proud of himself.

I turned to look at him incredulously. "The _car_?" I asked stupidly.

His grin widened. "Yes," he said looking back to the car. "I like to work on cars in my spare time, sometimes dirt bikes, motorcycles…" He shrugged, then snickered. "The little time that I have."

Wow. I'd _never _have pegged him for a grease monkey.

I mean, don't get me wrong, he could certainly look like one if he really wanted to, and _I _sure as hell wouldn't be against seeing a film someday where he played that part, but I was always so used to seeing him so polished and clean, that I couldn't imagine even a mere speck of dirt on his designer clothes.

"You getting in?"

I jumped at the sound, not having noticed Jacob standing with the passenger door opened for me, waiting for me to get seated. I blushed, murmuring my thank you as he shut the door.

I took a deep breath, trying to wrap my head around the situation that I was in.

* * *

**A/N: What do you think?**


	2. Track 2: Storm Warning

**A/N: **Hey guys! Be sure to go to my profile and check out all the links to the roleplays that I'm on - we could RP together! Haha. Something that Cassia4u - check this chick out. Now. Just. Do. It. (I'll hunt you down! [not really]) - pointed out is the fact that **the world doesn't know about Renesmee existing** - that's correct. Bella took a break when she was pregnant so that the world never knew. Carlisle, being a doctor, allowed it to be a home birth, so there wouldn't much talk at a hospital either. And, if you recall, Edward mentioned during the prologue that he didn't want to expose Renesmee to the public eye to have here exploited to cameras her whole life. So, no, she isn't famous in anyway.

**I realize that the song name for this chapter doesn't make much sense, I just needed one and love Hunter Hayes, so I thought, why not? Oh, and the links work like crap on published materials, so just look them up, they're amazing!**

Lastly,** I got the strangest review**, so if that person's reading, can you explain it to me? It said this (word for word, as well!):

Guest 9/23/12 . chapter 1

review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review review

What the hell? Did you mean to say update but forgot . . . Over and over and over again? I'm aware of the fact that you're reviewing, in case you didn't know. Don't get me wrong, I'm touched that you took your time to do that, but I was just a bit confused. Thanks anyway, though, as well as all of the other awesome reviewers whom I didn't get to thank! You guys are amazing, keep it coming!

Sorry about the length of this note, please forgive me! *cries*

Well that was dramatic.

Do you guys like Hunter Hayes? I love him . . . *random* (Seriously, though - he's hot.)

Okay, lastly, please enjoy chapter 2! :D

* * *

**Chapter 2: Storm Warning**

We pulled out as soon as he'd made sure that we were all ready to go and that nobody left anything behind in the mess that had been thrown about in the store. I adverted my eyes out the window, unsure of what to say, or whether or not to even say anything at all. I fiddled with my fingers, allowing silence to fill the air. Most would end up calling the thickening air between us an awkward silence, though those people would be dead wrong; the quiet wasn't an awkward air that needed to be filled, it was a calm full of the words that didn't need to be said.

Jacob flipped through the channels of the radio, giving each station a few seconds of playing time to see if it was something worth listening to. I smiled, my head whipping towards the dial when I caught part of one of my favorite songs.

_- going and gone_

_You get so lost_

_That you can't turn it off_

_You give in and you just turn it on_

_She's a heart full of rain_

_Red lips like a flame_

_She's a girl form your favorite song_

_She's a beautiful miss_

_One part angel, one part perf -_

The verse was cut short when Jacob changed the station on me, flipping through the channels to find something tolerable. "Hey, I like that song!" I blurted out, regretting the words the second that they left my lips, realizing a moment too late that _I _was the guest in _his _car.

He looked at me, his eyes quickly scanning my body for a moment before searching my eyes for something. ". . . _You _like _country_?" He raised his eyebrows.

I nodded, blushing, cursing my pale skin that undoubtedly made it noticeable. "Practically raised on it."

He looked thoughtful. "You don't seem like a country girl."

I raised my eyebrow, glancing down at myself. "Do I have to?"

"I guess not. I'm just saying . . ." He shrugged.

"Saying what?"

He sighed, trying to formulate a well-worded answer. "You just seem like someone who'd like more mainstream stuff, more . . . Poppy?" he asked it like a question, like he was afraid to offend me.

I turned to face him, my eyebrows furrowed. "No, no, don't get me wrong, I like other stuff too, I just . . ." I huffed, staring down at my fingers, which clasped and unclasped themselves together, nervously. "I don't know, it's just what I like."

"Dare I ask, _why_?" his eyes challenged, glancing over at me. I could've sworn that his eyes traveled the full length of my body once, but it was so fast that I couldn't tell for sure. Though it was enough to make me self consciously tug down at the hem of my spandex, as if I could cover more skin.

"Because it . . . I don't know, Jacob, really it just . . . Speaks to me when I hear it. It's songs about life, and, truly, can be about anything. Put it into Brad Paisley's perspective, for example; 'this is real; this is your life in a song,'" I recited. "Or Trace Adkins. 'It's songs about me, and who I am. Songs about loving and living and good hearted women, family and God.'"

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes on the road, clearly not recognizing any of the lyrics. I sighed. "What I mean is that the stories told through it are right on the dot."

He scoffed. "On the dot? Right. Because we all drive tractors, and grew up on a farm."

I scowled. "Okay, buddy, don't even _try _to go there. Imagine how many of your fans you'd offend who actually _do _drive tractors and grew up on a farm."

"Did you?" he asked, looking at me.

"Well, no, but - "

"Then why do you care?"

I gritted my teeth for a moment, taking a second to gather what I was going to say next. "I _care_," I began, "because it all has something meaningful within it. It's not gonna be written in plain black and white, it's going to be something that you have to decode, decipher. Like, for example, the song 'Red Ragtop' by Tim McGraw is not actually about a red ragtop, it's simply named after the car because it's symbolic. Like, in the song, there's a teenage pregnancy, an abortion, a break up, but all of this happens in a ragtop. It's named what it is because the person telling the story had so many memories in that vehicle."

"So it's about a car," Jacob thought that he summarized.

"No, it's not about the car, " I sighed, exasperated. "Like I said, it's symbolic. It's him showing that the car sparked many joyful, even painful memories."

He nodded, seeming to understand. "But still," he smirked.

I shot him a look. "_Really_? You're still gonna consider it a redneck genre?"

He shrugged. "Not quite - but don't go expecting me to be some sort of country boy either," he laughed.

I chuckled along with him. "That's too bad; ladies _love _country boys," I recited sarcastically, referring to the song by Trace Adkins.

He rolled his eyes, his deep chuckle once again filling the air of the car. Something of remembrance flickered in his eyes. "Oh, yeah, do you mind if we stop at my house? I forgot my wallet at home and kind of need it."

"Wait, what were you doing in the gas station again?"

"I was on my way somewhere but was being followed. I knew that they wouldn't follow me outside, if anything, they'd just wait until I left. Regardless, I just remembered that I forgot my wallet on the counter, so do you mind?"

I shook my head, noticing that my headache had gone away. "No, that's fine."

He grinned as a thank you, turning to face the road once more. Less than two minutes later, after two lefts and a right whose pavement curved long and smoothly through the plentiful strips of housing, we suddenly started turning into a short driveway. I raised an eyebrow when I noticed that it was the low-key house that I'd run past before, the one that you'd easily find in the middle of Forks, or even a suburb outside of Seattle, but was far too low-profile to fit this neighborhood in particular.

A car door slammed to my left, causing me to jump, not having noticed that Jacob was already out of the car. I froze for a moment, not sure if I should wait awkwardly, like I was, or to just go inside with him, unsure of how long we would be. I was still contemplating the simplest of decisions when Jacob was opening the door for me, grinning. "You coming?"

I blushed, clumsily getting out of the car, the toe of my tennis shoe catching on a crack in the pavement, causing me to trip, only to be saved by Jacob's arms for the second time today . . . Or perhaps the third? I didn't really know anymore. I could feel blood flushing through to my neck, only adding to the scarlet color of my cheeks from the last blush.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he led me to the door. "I'm gonna end up carrying you everywhere at this point," he commented. I rolled my eyes as he shoved the door open.

His movements seemed as if they were meant to be silent, unheard. I had a bit more trouble to be discreet, tripping over a rug once on the way to the staircase, one of his arms flying out behind him, steadying my without even looking. I was a bit shocked at his immediate instincts that always ended up saving me cuts and bruises, but didn't have much time to think about it when his hand slid down my arm, forming a manacle around my wrist so that I wouldn't tumble down the staircase as he lead me up them, I in a hurry to keep up my pace as he lightly took each step two at a time.

I barely noticed the rooms that we passed enough to identify what they were, Jacob leading me into a decent sized bedroom with midnight blue walls, even more bare than my _own _room at Alice's house, the only décor in the entire bedroom being a king sized bed in the far corner. A narrow, full length mirror that was still waiting to be mounted leaned against the wall nearest to the door that we'd entered, while an aged dresser that stood up to my shoulders sat by the western window, several of the drawers only half way shut, sleeves and other pieces of fabric overflowing from the edges while random picture frames, small boxes, watches and other various clutter threatened to spill off of the top of it. I could feel Jacob drop my arm.

I supposed that I wasn't getting a fair impression of the room, due to the fact that a door blocked me from seeing the inside of the closet, but I didn't stress it too much as Jacob searched the top of his dresser setting things down in completely random places as he looked at each thing over, trying to decide whether or not it was what he was looking for.

The dresser that I had compared to my dainty height before suddenly caused it to hit me how this moderately sized bedroom that seemed perfectly fine for any normal teenager was far little for Jacob. I mean, it had nothing to do with any sort of special treatment, but it was simply because his size towered over everything, like how he had to lean down to simply get a good look at the things that he finally left on his dresser, or how I had no doubt in my mind that the width of the mirror wouldn't ever be enough to fit his full frame, not with his build. A quick glance at his body told me that the bed could hardly contain him at night, even if he had laid diagonally across it, his feet, probably more, would dangle off of one corner.

"Must be downstairs," Jacob muttered to himself, closing his closet door that I hadn't noticed that he'd even opened, throwing back in a few shoes and other articles of clothing that had tumbled out while he'd been riffling through. He looked up at me, still standing in the doorway, his face sheepish. "If I had known that anyone would have to see this, then I'd have cleaned up," he admitted, a grin lighting up his features.

I smirked, waving it off, jerking my thumb behind me as I spoke. "So what's up with the _Mission Impossible _act back there? I know that you live a very public life, but I didn't think that you'd have to hide in your own home." I chuckled.

He laughed along with me, shaking his head. "I just didn't want my family to see you, that's all."

I couldn't help the frown that crossed my features when he said that, self consciously locking my eyes with his speckled carpet. I could hear thoughtful silence in Jacob's direction before two feet suddenly appeared in my short eye line. I looked up to see Jacob placing his fingers under my chin, tilting it up so that my face was angled to look him directly in the eyes. My breathing hitched in my throat for a moment as I swallowed the squeak that dared to try and escape my lips.

I tried to play off my embarrassment as confusion - which probably wasn't working, of course - as he tilted my head from side to side, inspecting it carefully. "Does it still hurt?" he murmured gently.

I shook my head. "No, my headache's been gone for a while, now."

"Not the headache, the _pain_," he corrected, holding his soft tone. I stared up at him in confusion as his hand moved to lightly touch a welt about four inches above my ear. I hissed at the pressure, not having known that it was even there in the first place. Jacob made a face. "We'll get you something for that."

I sighed as he led me out again, taking a more calm pace than before but still remaining just as silent and preserved. He made sure to keep a good grip on me, glancing in every direction from the last step, me a few behind as we walked across the hallway into the kitchen that was straight across from the bottom of the staircase. I could almost hear him grit his teeth as we cleared the wall that had been obscuring our view from the dining room, having entered too fast to go back now.

I was still hidden by Jacob's massive frame, which stood awkwardly in the entrance as a male voice spoke. "Jake! We didn't know you were home!"

I saw the back of Jacob's shoulders shrug nonchalantly, not answering.

"I thought you left? When did you get back?" a female voice added, the sound of a plate being set on the table as she spoke.

"I forgot my wallet," he answered truthfully.

There was the sound of shoes scuffing across the floor, papers, sounding to be the thickness of envelopes, were shuffled around before another male voice, different, perhaps a bit younger than the first, spoke. "Oh - here."

A flicker of a flying shadow was cast on the opposite wall that I could actually see, before ricocheting off of Jacob's chest, who forgot for a split second that he was the only thing that blockaded me from their eye line, bending down to retrieve what I finally saw was the wallet. I was met by light and three shocked and confused gazes who gaped at me and then at Jacob and back at me, restarting their cycle over and over.

"Nice thr - shit," Jacob muttered as he finally looked up.

The youngest, looking to be about Jacob's age, which I knew for a fact was eighteen, let out a low whistle, his brown eyes smirking at Jacob. All three of them had the same, silky, jet black hair and russet skin, though the teenager's hair was a bit more shaggy, perhaps even a bit more greasier, even, with how the light glinted off of the strands in unclean chunks. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing or anything, he just needed some good shampoo. All in all, he was fairly good-looking, as were all of them.

The woman's ink colored hair laid in a stick straight waterfall of midnight down her back, all the way down to her waist, seeming as if it had been straightened until no moisture could have had a chance of survival, though it looked healthier than most, plenty silky, no split ends, stunningly beautiful. Her face was too, she had some of the same features as Jacob as well, like the joyful glint in her kind eyes and her gleaming smile. Even their noses showed a bit of resemblance, allowing me to assume that they were related.

The last was the older male, thought he couldn't be all that old, by the looks of him, twenty five at most. His face seemed to hold a permanent sarcastic smirk, his dark eyes twinkling of mischief as he overlooked me and then scrutinized Jacob, trying to analyze the entire situation. It was easy to tell that he tried to keep up a well physical appearance with his build, seemingly because he tried to come off as intimidating - it worked.

All of them seemed to have their own, separately different auras rolling off of them, but all friendly enough as they assessed me. I flushed, my eyes quickly finding the ground.

The woman cleared her throat, causing me to look up. She blinked once before finding her voice again. "Err - um - hi, hello?" she greeted questioningly, smiling politely anyway.

I smiled weakly, hoping that no one would make me speak, knowing that nothing but air could come out, if even that.

Jacob started. "Um, we should really g - "

"No, no, Jake, who's this?" she looked at him, cocking her head in confusion.

"Uh - nobody, if you'll excuse us - "

"Jake," she walked up to him in an overpowering, warning tone, shooting a look up at him. I almost laughed at how she seemed to have a guardian feel over him, when their size comparison was a completely different story. "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Jacob, you just came from upstairs with someone - " she cut herself off, not wanting to say more. Both my and Jacob's eyes widened at the realization at what she was trying to get across.

"_What_?! No, no, Rachel!" Jacob exasperated, a faint redness hinting under the surface of his dark skin. "It's not like that, no!"

Someone snorted their doubt in the background while Rachel sighed in relief, clearly trusting him enough to not need to ask again. "Thank God . . ." she muttered to herself.

"So why's she here?" the sarcastic man who'd snorted asked, raising his eyebrows.

I couldn't help but feel like some sort of animal, being glanced at as if I were some little puppy that Jacob had decided to take home, but was unwanted by his family. Seemed close enough, anyway.

"I just . . . Ran into some trouble." I could hear the literal smirk in Jacob's voice without even looking.

The man grinned. "What'd you do?"

"Ran her over," Jacob replied bluntly.

Rachel whirled. "Jacob Black!"

"What?"

"You gotta be careful with that car! Come here, sweetie, are you okay?" she waved me forward as I spoke. I took each step slowly, unsure of each one, glancing at Jacob. She touched my arm, inspecting me. I didn't protest.

"Car? What? No, God, Rach, you can't get anything right today," Jacob chuckled, keeping his tone light and humorous. "Someone was following me, so I stopped at that little gas station a few miles over." He pointed in the direction, keeping eye contact with Rachel as he spoke. She nodded for him to continue. "I kind of ran into the building and knocked her into the wall . . . Hard." He smiled sheepishly.

There was silence for a few moments before the men burst into laughter.

Rachel shot them scolding looks. "Boys, that's not funny! She could have been seriously hurt!"

"It kind of is," the sarcastic guy choked out.

"Paul," Rachel said in a warning tone.

Paul calmed immediately, biting his lip to hold it in.

She turned back to me. "I'll get you the first aid kit. If Jake's the one that patched you up then it's probably . . . _Poisoned _or something," she murmured, rushing out of the room to a door in the hallway, from the sound of it.

"I didn't do that," Jacob corrected, grinning at me. "I wouldn't."

"Riiiiight," the teenager rolled his eyes.

"Em, I think that you can go a few seconds without giving me a sarcastic comment," Jacob, gave him, "Em," a look. He shook his head turning back to me. "Oh, that was Rachel, she's my sister, _and _current caretaker," he smiled. "This is her husband, Paul, and my best friend, Embry," he gestured to them as he spoke.

Embry, the teenager grinned at me. "I'm just along for the ride."

I raised my eyebrows, hoping that someone would enlighten me. "He's more or less moral support. To be honest, the only reason he came is because he wanted to come to California," Jacob explained.

"Okay, that's not true! Well, okay, it is, but dude, seriously, try surfing back home!" he made a salute as a goodbye gesture, causing us to laugh.

Rachel came back in with a small, translucent box, band-aid labeled on everything inside, already opening it before she'd set it on the counter. "Let me see that cut on your arm," she nodded to me. I looked at Jacob who nodded, sighing. I did the same, turning my left to her to give her better access to the gash. I closed my eyes, ignoring the sting as some sort of cold gel was rubbed into place. I didn't want to see how bad the damage was now, probably smeared with more dried blood and pus or something else that was to gruesome for me to stomach. "Looks like the cut is too big for a band-aid." I held my eyes closed, knowing that Rachel took a small moment to glare at her brother for a second. There was a chuckle before she spoke again. "So how did you get this from hitting a wall? Jake's normally not that clumsy." She laughed, applying what felt like gauze to my arm.

"There was a nail sticking out of the wall," I murmured, speaking for the first time. I risked opening my eyes, glad to see that the worst was covered up. I sighed in relief.

She hissed at the thought. "Is there anything else?"

"Nope," I lied in a hurry, knowing that my voice didn't sound very convincing.

"Yes," Jacob corrected, shooting me a disapproving look. "She hit her head, there's a bump.

"It's fine," I lied again.

He shook his head, ignoring me. "Do we have any ice packs?"

Rachel nodded. "There should be some in the door of the freezer."

He nodded, walking to the fridge. I turned my attention to his sister as she tried to baby me even more. I swallowed the sorrow that built up in my throat, praying to God that my eyes were free of tears. "Are you hungry? I can make you something."

"No, thank you," I smiled appreciatively as Jacob held out an ice pack that he'd wrapped in a towel. I scowled, taking it from him.

"Are you sure?" she raised her eyebrows.

I nodded, swallowing back my emotions again, locking my eyes with the ground as I shuffled to the doorway, looking towards Jacob quickly. "I gotta go . . ."

He looked at me questioningly for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

I gripped the door handle. "Um, it was nice meeting you guys . . . Thank you for everything!" I called before shoving outside, rushing to the car. I rested back against the headrest, wincing. I put up the ice pack.

Jacob was in the car a few seconds later. "Are . . . Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thanks for the ice," I murmured, closing my eyes.

"No, I mean, are you _really _okay? I don't mean your head . . . You seem like you might break down or something. . ."

"I'm fine," I lied again, and he didn't ask again.

I heard nothing but his silent breathing as he started the car, backing out of the driveway. "So um . . . Where do you live?"

I gave him the directions and address, and he nodded, picking up his speed a bit.

* * *

Something shook my shoulder, causing my eyes to fly open. Had I fallen asleep? I didn't realize that I could have done that quite so fast. I blinked a few times, finally looking over at the one who'd shook my shoulder. Jacob looked at me apologetically. "We're here. Sorry, I tried to let you sleep, but I really gotta go I'd have brought you in, but you have a gated driveway."

I furrowed my eyebrows for a moment, trying to assess what he was saying. Suddenly it hit me like a brick wall that he'd been driving me back to Alice and Jasper's house after meeting his family at his own.

I sat straighter, smiling briefly. "Thanks," I murmured, noticing that the ice pack had fallen. "Oh, here." I held it out to him.

He shook his head. "No, no, you keep it."

"No, it's fine, we have some more."

He sighed, not wanting to argue. "So . . . It was nice meeting you."

I laughed, rolling my eyes, sarcastic. "Yes, thank you for slamming me into a deadly counter at a gas station."

He grinned. "Thank you for standing there."

I shrugged, holding my sarcastic tone. "Anytime. You know, it's not everyday that a girl gets run into by Jacob Black, of all people."

He rolled his eyes, his smile still in place as I opened the door, swinging my legs out. "What's your name?"

I stopped, turning my face to him. "Huh?"

"Your name. You never said it once tonight; what is it?" He smiled kindly.

I bit my lip, smiling to myself. "I was raised not to talk to strangers."

He chuckled. "Good, because by this point, I sure as hell am not a stranger."

I giggled, getting out, a lot smoother than I'd even planned, actually. I shut the door, smirking at him. As I went up to the gate I turned to see him grinning at me. He pointed to the mailbox. "Whitlock! Got it!" his muffled voice came, shooting me yet another blinding smile as well as a thumbs up before backing out.

* * *

I stepped into my bedroom, kicking off the tennis shoes before moving to the large, sleek black vanity that contrasted the beige wall in my 'room,' nearly screaming at the reflection that I was met with.

Several fly-away curls had fallen out of my hair, sticking out in random directions, having dried that way because of the sweat that they'd been drenched in before. The skin tone of my cheeks was uneven, redness blotted into splotches all over, giving me . . . Almost a cheetah print effect of white and pink on my face. The eyes were unreadable, as ordinarily brown as always but hectic, wild, almost thrilled; and expression that I'd never seen once in my life. Whoever this was, it wasn't me, this girl was too much of a teenager, too excited, too happy, too . . . Not me.

I gulped thinking of tonight's events. It was the most excitement that I'd seen in my life, to be honest with you. I'd never really had any sort of encounter with someone like him, mainly because anyone like him just didn't exist. Sure, I knew a few people who were rated on the same popularity scale as him, but I'd been raised by them, known them my whole life. He was someone that I'd met out of pure chance, and seemed genuinely interested in who I was, even when there wasn't much to my story.

I thought back to a few minutes ago, when he'd pointed to the Whitlock mailbox.

If he only knew.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, not much of a cliffhanger, and kind of boring, I know, but what did you think?


	3. Track 3: Unstoppable

**A/N: This might not be a real interesting chapter, but I really hope that you guys can enjoy it! :D**

**Please check out Cassia4u! Her stories - especially the most recent, will leave you stunned out of your mind, no joke! It would be greatly appreciated if you did!**

**Sorry about the long update, I've been very busy with a lot these days, and since the school musical, I haven't been getting home until 9:00PM at the earliest! I'll try to be quicker next time!**

**Lastly, Unstoppable by Rascal Flatts doesn't exactly fit this chapter perfectly, but I couldn't come up with anything better! Although, It's truly an amazing song, so I would love it if you listened to it!**

**Okay, that's about it for today! Happy reading, and thank you, especially all of you dear reviewers who I didn't get to thank, you mean the world to me! :D**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Unstoppable**

**Manhattan, New York, July fourth.**

I sighed, crossing my arms over my stomach, hugging myself to - hopefully produce more body heat. I frowned, wishing that I might've worn something thicker than a thin sweater tonight. You might have thought that the temperature could rise a few degrees because of the compact bodies crowding the Hudson, but you'd have guessed wrong.

Fireworks boomed overhead, different colors sparkling and fizzing through the night sky of the country's Independence Day. I watched the lights flicker and flare solo, my family having their own little celebration at Emmett and Rosalie's house. The next day after my arrival in LA, Alice was already "loaning" me some of her clothes because we hadn't gone on our shopping spree yet. It felt like I'd only just gotten there - which was exactly the case - and was already having to leave to spend the fourth of July weekend with our family in Manhattan. All had been going well, I'd had my share of babysitting Jaden while the adults over twenty one went our for much-needed drinks that they'd been longing for since they'd had him . . . Or at least since they'd last gotten a baby sitter. Emmett normally just watched him most of the time because Rose hadn't needed a bodyguard since retirement - and Nahuel certainly didn't want one. Watching someone kick a civilian's ass when he could have had the satisfaction of doing so himself would have hurt his ego.

I huffed, thinking back to earlier tonight.

"Good job, sweetheart!" I heard Rosalie compliment Jaden in the other room. I turned off my iPod doc, getting off the bed of one of their many guest bedrooms to see what the family was up to.

I smiled as Jaden giggled, applauding himself for whatever he had done. A quick glance around the large living space, modern and baby proofed, told me that us three were the only ones home. "Hey, rose," I smiled at my aunt, who was still engrossed in her son. She shot a brief smile to me before making a funny face at Jaden, causing him to giggle. "Where is everyone?" I asked, plopping down lazily on the couch.

"Emmett and Alice are out getting some sparklers for later tonight," she answered, poking Jaden on the belly. His laughter filled the air again. I sighed, grabbing the TV remote, flipping through the TV channels. "Hey, Renesmee?"

"Yeah?" I asked, my eyes still on the TV.

"There's something that yo -"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Emmett burst through the door, his voice booming through the room. Two large boxes were stacked up in his arms, the top one threatening to tip, teetering in his arms. Alice stepped out from behind him, carrying nothing but her Prada purse.

Figures, that she would maker her brother carry it all.

"They had a lot of crappy ones," Alice explained, a slight pout pulling down her features.

"Eh, we did alright," Emmett contradicted, setting the boxes on the mahogany dinner table.

Alice rolled her eyes, clearly not agreeing with that argument.

Rosalie started again. "Renesmee, there's -"

"Hey there, little man!" Emmett cheered, grinning at Jaden, interrupting his wife for the second time.

Rose huffed, in a hurry to get her statement on the table. "What I -"

_Knock, knock, knock._

She was cut off once again by a knock on the door. "I got it," Alice murmured.

I shook my head, motioning for her to continue, her eagerness causing me to grow interested too. "What is it?"

"Hey!" an all-too familiar voice called, causing a chill to shiver through my bones. I paled a bit.

"_That _is what I was trying to explain," she whispered, shooting me an apologetic glance.

I didn't answer, turning to face Nahuel, the young model whose career Rosalie managed, who barged in like he owned the place - which is probably what he thought. I grit my teeth as he took the seat next to me on the sleek black leather couch, throwing his arm onto the back of the seat behind me. "'Sup? Been too long."

I scooted further away from his side, which he'd not-so-subtly pressed against my side, his cologne so intoxicating that it took all I had not to gag. He only moved closer, his arm coming forward to rest on my shoulders. The contact sent a shock through me, jolting off the sofa, scowling down at him.

"Aw, don't be like that," he murmured, sounding almost like a coo.

I ignored him. "Rosalie, why didn't you tell me?" I accused, facing my aunt.

"I tried to!" she cried, her hands fluttering as if in need to something to grasp onto.

"Ouch! No, buddy, we don't pull hair," Emmett scolded Jaden.

"Emmett, please! Shut up for two minutes!" Rose chided her husband, her violet eyes glinting of chilling ice.

Emmett bit his lip awkwardly, embarrassed. He picked up his son, his embarrassment all but gone. They were soon out of the room.

Rose rolled her eyes, turning back to me. "I tried to say something earlier, but -"

"Why is he even here in the first place?" I interrupted, not sparing any feelings that might be hidden behind Nahuel's cloudy ego.

"Who says that I can't?" Nahuel chimed in, his tone trying to grab my attention.

I wasn't swayed.

"Renesmee, please, don't start this now. I know you don't really like him, but if you'll please just listen to me, and maybe give him a chance -"

"I don't want to give him a chance!" I interrupted, my voice a sneer. "We've been through and through this. I don't like him - at all!" I exploded.

"But you will." Nahuel's voice came up again, causing me to whirl around to face him. He grinned, showing a row of clean, white teeth, clearly unaffected by my weak jibes.

"Let it go! I will not subject myself to some pathetic, little emotionless fling!" I snapped, my nostrils flaring.

"It's not emotionless. Babe, if you only knew -"

"Save it," I barked, turning on my heel for the door.

"Renesmee, please, let's just talk this through," Rosalie tried to reason. I could hear her rising to follow me.

"I'm going out," I muttered, not turning to face her.

"Well, don't be out too late! We're going to start fireworks soon!"

"I won't be there. I'm going to the Macy's 4th Fireworks."

"What? No, please, just -"

I hadn't heard the end of her reply as I stepped outside, my phone already in hand to call a cab.

"Whitlock?" a familiar, deep voice asked from behind me, interrupting my reverie. My eyebrows furrowed, wondering why I'd heard my uncle's surname. I took longer than necessary to turn around, doubting the possibility of the voice.

He was a dark, hooded figure with his fists jammed into the pockets of his jeans. The muscular form towered over me, his build shocking me more that it should have. My thoughts flickered to my jog in LA. There was a slight doubt in my mind that told me that I was hallucinating - for real, this time - but when a brilliant white smile lit up the shaded face, all of my doubts slipped away.

I was unable to help the smile that crept onto my lips. "Jacob," I clarified for myself.

The grin widened. "You seem down . . . I've been watching from a distance. Seemed like your head might explode, so I thought that I might come in to save the day," he admitted sheepishly.

I laughed, shivering from the evening air. "Well, I don't know how to thank my hero, then, so any suggestions would be great." I chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sure that I could think of something." He grinned. "So what's a girl like you doing watching fireworks alone on the fourth of July?"

My smile fell when he said that. I turned away, shuffling my feet while I averted my eyes from his questioning ones, my one drifting to a small, gray pebble on the ground.

When he spoke this time, his tone was more gentle, concerned. "Nessie?"

I didn't do much more than look up at him, scrutinizing his face with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't know your name," he explained, a bit sheepish, but didn't dwell on it. "I gave you a nickname in my head . . . If that's okay, I don't wanna be creepy or anything . . ." I shrugged before he nodded, asking again. "So are you okay?"

"I'm . . . I'm fine," I murmured, hardly believing myself.

"Liar," he accused. I wrinkled my nose. "I'm an actor; you'd think that I would know a lie when I see one."

I huffed, knowing that he'd be relentless otherwise. "I had a fight with my family."

"Doesn't sound too complicated," Jacob guessed.

I shook my head. "My aunt's been trying to set me up with her client for the billionth time, not seeing that I'm not interested." I rolled my eyes.

A smile hinted at his lips. Did he think that this was _funny_? "So, um, what's wrong with him, then . . . If you don't mind me asking?"

I sighed. "He's conceded, doesn't give anyone less pretty than himself the time of day, and only tries to get into my pants, not even realizing that you have to weave your way into my mind, let alone my heart, fist," I murmured, sounding like a cliché.

Jacob nodded, thinking that over. "And so here you are; a lone girl in a crowded place in a big city. A lot of things could happen, you know," he pointed out.

"Like meeting a world-famous actor for not the first, but the _second_ time? Yeah, I'm terrified," I chuckled, rolling my eyes.

He grinned. "So what are you here for?"

"I just told you."

"No, I mean _here-_here, New York."

I shrugged. "Visiting family. What about you?"

"I had some business to do for work," he grinned.

I smiled back, turning back towards the fireworks. I could tell that the finale was beginning to start, one being set off after another. There wasn't much more to be said, unspoken words mingling between us like in the car, hanging in the air like bait on a lonely fishing pole. Every few seconds my eyes would flicker in his direction, finding that he'd been doing the same thing. Every time, no matter how repetitive, I'd blush a deep crimson, biting my lip so hard that I thought that it might bleed. I turned away.

As the last few fireworks exploded into the clear night sky, I, much to my dismay, noticed a young couple, perhaps early twenties, was wrapped up in a tight embrace, giving one another a passionate, spontaneous kiss as the very last firework burst, the letters U.S.A. forming in red, white, and blue.

I stared for a moment before I naturally turned to Jacob again, whose expression held the same awkwardness as I was sure mine had. I cleared my throat, my eyes drifting down to my feet. "I uh . . . Better call a cab," I murmured, patting my pockets for my cell phone.

"Um . . . You need a ride?" Jacob asked, a reminiscent tone hinting in his voice.

I chuckled, looking up at him. "If you wouldn't mind, then please."

He grinned. "Come on." He gestured for me to follow him.

I obeyed, following close behind as he wove us through the immobile crowd.

* * *

"So, um, do you always come home to a mansion?" Jacob Joked as we drove at a slow rate through Rose and Emmett's neighborhood.

I rode in the passenger seat of the small rental car that Jake had until he left New York. It didn't have quite the right presence about it, not enough character for Jacob. Everything about him had energy, radiating a vibrant vibe that just made everything and everyone feel like they were in the right place. I think that's why I had such an easy time seeing him in his little homemade car and low-profile house, and such a simple family life; it suited him well.

I rolled my eyes. "I already told you, it's my uncle's house. Same with L.A., that's my aunt's house."

He raised his eyebrows. "Why were you at your aunt's house?"

"What, I can't visit my aunt?"

"No, no, I mean, you don't normally leave your house guest alone," he corrected, looking over at me with one hand on the wheel.

I shrugged. "I live with my aunt in the summers. Her husband is overseas most of the time, so I keep her company during the summers."

He nodded, processing that for a moment. "So where was she when I dropped you off last time?"

"Drunk," I admitted honestly, chuckling.

He didn't return the light gesture, shooting me an incredulous look. "_What_?"

"She went out for drinks with her girlfriends," I explained, shrugging. "She hadn't done it in a while, I could tell because she was so antsy to tell me, not that she ever holds back anyway," I laughed.

He huffed, nodding, relief flooding his face back to life. He looked over in my direction, a new smile lighting up his features. I smiled back as he spoke. "So, you must have some pretty awesome parents if they let you fly around the country," he mused, a look of awe on his face as if he didn't already get to do that himself.

My smile slid right off, his words like a dagger plunging right through my chest. "Um . . . Yeah, my grandparents give me a lot of freedom," I mumbled, my eyes flickering down to my hands, which were now fidgeting and fiddling with anything within their reach.

I felt his now concerned gaze on my face, seeming as if it might burn right through my skull. "Your grandparents?" he pressed.

I bit my lip, not looking up to see his reaction. "Jacob, my biological parents are dead - they have been since I was five."

Silence.

I could feel the car slow to a stop, catching Jacob's hand put the vehicle in neutral out of the corner of my eye. I risked a glance in Jacob's direction, quickly looking back down when I caught the sympathetic glimmer in his eyes, grief mirrored in them.

I swallowed, a hand suddenly resting on my shoulder. I turned to face Jacob, gritting my teeth when I looked at him, not wanting to break down in front of him. "My mom died when I was twelve. A drunk driver hit her hand my dad's car . . . My dad has been paralyzed from the waist down since . . . My mother was killed instantly," he murmured, his voice thick and grief-stricken. His hand reached up to wipe away a tear that I hadn't even known had fallen.

I stuttered. "I-I'm so s-sorry . . . I-I -"

He shook his head, clamping his large hand over my mouth. "No. Don't, _please_, just don't say that you're sorry. You didn't do it. I didn't do it either, so neither of us should worry about it, and I'm not saying that I don't, but I _shouldn't_. I try to take things in stride, tell myself that she's the one who helped me get this far in the first place. I've learned to live with it and you should too." He removed his hand.

"I've lived with it my whole life."

"No, you haven't. I can tell just by looking at you that you haven't let it go."

"They were on a plane to come back to _me_! I'm the reason that they were on it anyway until that retarded pilot crashed it!"

"And if they weren't on the plane?" he challenged.

"Then they'd be alive!"

He allowed that, shrugging. "Maybe. But what does that do for the other passengers? The others who lost their lives? Their families?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. When I didn't reply, he continued. "That plane was going to crash regardless, as sad as it is, it's true. Your parents just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like mine were -"

"Because of me!"

"No, don't see it that way!" he tied to reason. "Look, did _you_ fly the plane? Did _you_ have control? No. I felt the same way for years, but realized that I had absolutely no control of the situation. You know where they were going?"

I shook my head.

"They were on their way to pick me up from Embry's house. I kept thinking that if I hadn't given them reason to be on the road that day, that they'd have stayed at home so that reckless drunk driver could have driven into the ditch instead. Maybe Mom would still be here, Dad might still be walking, but I had no control of it. I still hurt over it, and I always will, there's no way around it, but you just have to look at it in a different light."

I shifted in my seat, looking away from him. I didn't look up as his car door opened, slamming less than a second later. Before I knew what was happening, my passenger door was swung open, Jacob's hand pulling me out of the vehicle and onto my feet.

I leaned back against the car, avoiding his careful gaze. His index finger was under my chin, tilting it back up, forcing me to look him directly in the eyes. "But no matter what light you see it in, any light is better than pushing it into the darkness, Nessie," he murmured.

I swallowed back the sob that built up in the back of my throat sniffing. His warm arms pulled me forward, nearly engulfing me in a warm embrace. I rested my forehead on his well-developed chest, the tears that had been brimming in the corners of my eyes finally spilling over, soaking his dark sweatshirt.

I considered his words, trying to see a brighter side to it, but could only see nothing but the sad, lonely little shadow that I lived in, a bubble, perhaps. My life not entirely a lie, but how I came to existence being a complete secret, keeping who I truly was hush, hush for my father's sake, honoring his words as if they were a last wish, successfully keeping me from the public.

It would seem like a simple thing to abide - but I couldn't help but choke on the words that bunched up in my throat, no sound coming out when someone would ask about my family; what do your parents do for a living? How many siblings do you have? You seem like a nice girl, I would love to meet your parents. All such simple questions causing me to stretch the truth so that I wouldn't add onto my parent's perished reputations.

I began to wonder what Dad would have said if I _had_ been exposed. What if I had wanted to go into the same career field, follow in his footsteps or something of the sort? Would he have still kept me in the dark, giving me the 'normal' life that he had always dreamed of giving me? Or would he change directions. Deciding that I should chase after whatever I wanted, thinking that happiness might work differently than he'd thought?

Jacob let me sob into his chest, one of his hands stroking my curls. Once I was done, he allowed me to catch my breath. "You good?" he asked in a gentle voice, his eyebrows raised hesitantly.

I nodded.

"I will walk you inside then."

I grabbed his arm, shaking my head. "Just . . . Give me a minute, I don't want them to seem me with wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes," I explained.

He nodded, giving me a moment. Once my features calmed down, Jacob assuring me that the redness was gone from my face, he guided me forward, his hand resting on the small of my back. He gave me another breathtaking grin while I reached for the door handle, about to grip onto it when Jacob suddenly stopped my hand.

I looked up in confusion. "What?"

Jacob smiled. "You still haven't told me your name - for the billionth time, I might add."

I chuckled lightly. "Renesmee."

He looked thoughtful. "It fits. It's unique . . . But I still like Nessie." He grinned, winking.

I laughed as he started back towards his car. "Keep in touch! You know where I live!" he called before getting into the rental and driving off. **(A/N: "You know where I live!" - that sounds like a rapist in an alternate universe.)**

I smiled, shaking my head as I pushed open the door.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! :D Review?**


	4. Track 4: Flightless Bird, American Mouth

**A/N: **Big thank you to all who reviewed last chapter but I never got around to thanking! It truly means a lot to me that you guys care so much! I'm thoroughly impressed with the success of this story so far. Far better than my past ones! All thanks to you guys! I greatly appreciate the fact that you've enjoyed it enough to come this far, or even think about opening up the story in the first place, I couldn't ever thank you enough! I HAVE NOT GIVEN UP ON THIS STORY! I've just been busy because of my school musical which I took part in, events, friends, family, holidays, school, unfortunately, FF has to come after all of those things, so I apologize deeply for taking so long! Like I've said before, I make no promises that it won't happen again, by I will try my hardest to do better!

Check out **Cassia4u**, my lovelies! Now, after reading chapter 3 of her story, it's hard to top her way of saying to read my shit, but I mean it just as genuinely that you will be left breathless and begging for more! :D

This is a fairly short chapter.

Just wondering, **WHO ELSE WENT TO THE PREMIERE OF BREAKING DAWN PART 2?!**

Cheesy, but I loved it anyway. I was on a roll while texting a friend the other night.

**Friend:** I want Adam Levine to blow me a kiss . . .

**Me:** I want Jacob Black to show _me_ his wolf. ;)

**Friend:** Hahahahahaha! That made my night!

**Me:** Ha! Mine too! You know, I'm a dog person. I hear they do good breeding in Washington, La Push reservation especially. ;)

**Friend**: :O HAHAHAHAHA! It's so nice to know that I'm not the only person being perverted tonight, just ask [INSERT NAME HERE]!

* * *

**Chapter 4: Flightless Bird, American Mouth**

I stepped through the door of Emmett and Rosalie's house soon after Jacob left. I small smile tugged towards the corners of my lips, threatening to spread across my face. I tried to shut the door as softly as possible, _hoping_ not to start a riot with my arrival. Sneakily, I tip-toed towards the stairs, hoping to just go to bed in peace.

Someone cleared their throat.

Damn.

I slowly, more than necessary at that, turned to face Nahuel, who was leaning casually against the wall next to the window, the perfect spot to see where Jacob and I had just been. He had a smug grin on his face, his eyes roaming over me, seeming to scrutinize my demeanor. "Who was that?" he asked casually.

"Nobody," I lied unconvincingly.

He nodded, not pressing the question further. "You weren't really mad, were you?" he continued.

"Yes, actually, I _was_," I said, allowing some acid to leak into my voice as I crossed my arms stubbornly.

"Oh, please, you were _more _than happy to leave. Nearly leapt out of the door," he added, smirking.

I rolled my eyes, taking a step towards him. "I'd leap out of a _window _to get away from you."

He glared, moving closer to me as well. "Just tell me who it was. A random guy? A friend? Your boyfriend?" he demanded, having gotten close enough to have to look down to see me.

"Goodnight, Nahuel," I hissed, spinning on my heel to charge back up to my room.

* * *

I jumped as Jacob's front door opened abruptly, nearly tumbling to the ground with my hand still raised as if I were to knock. My knees had buckled from beneath me, one giving out and sliding behind the other as if it had been yanked on from the ankle. Jacob, as usual, had his arms ready to catch me, getting a firm grip on my elbows before pulling me back up in one swift movement.

Still a slight startled, I looked up to Jacob's smiling face, glimmering with happiness as if I'd made his day just by showing up at the door - which was doubtful with how his life was.

I did my best to smile back, surely not comparing to the white shine of his teeth - to think that he hadn't even been trying. "You scared the living shit out of me."

"'Hey Jake! How are you?' 'Oh, I'm great, Nessie, thanks for asking!'" he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "It's good to see you."

I beamed. "You too. Where is everybody?" I asked, taking note of the silent house, not even the murmurs of a television or the like.

"To be completely honest with you, I don't really know. I think that Rachel and Paul went out to buy some groceries, but I have _no _clue about Embry," he admitted.

I laughed. "I should have guessed."

He chuckled as he lead the way to the very familiar stairway, me following clumsily behind, but not enough to completely fall on my face.

Since getting back to LA, Jacob and I had been growing close. I was at his house nearly every day, Alice always - grudgingly, on her part - busy with new designs and getting shipments out to the right places, and other complicated things that made no sense to me whatsoever. It had truly only been a week, probably less than that, but it seemed like we'd known each other much longer, already knowing what made the other tick, what the other liked or didn't like. By this point, we'd just been filling the blanks, to be honest.

I plopped down on his unmade bed hissing as something sharp from my bag poked into my side, causing me to jerk upright. "Oh!"

"What?!" Jacob showed his palms defensively, alarmed.

I shook out the contents of my bag, a crapload of random things dumping onto Jacob's chocolate colored comforter, blushing when a few toiletries fell out. I quickly stuffed those back into the bag before grabbing the clear CD case and tossing it to Jacob, who instinctively caught it with one hand. He grinned. "What's this?"

I walked up to him, pointing to the white disk with song titles and numbers scrawled on in black sharpie covering every inch of the thin CD. "It's a play list of all my favorite songs. Well, not all of them, just a few. Show you that my taste doesn't suck," I added.

He smirked, putting the disk in an aged CD player, pressing play. "I'll be the judge of that. Though, I presume that it's mostly country music." He made a face.

I rolled my eyes. "Not all country music . . . Just most of it," I laughed, lying back on the bed.

He grinned taking a seat next to me as the first one started playing.

_I was a ferris wheel, in an empty field where nobody goes _

_Had all the curtains drawn, sitting all alone, feeling like a ghost __-_

Jacob gave me a look. "What's this?"

I blushed. "'Light Me Up,'" I mumbled, continuing when his face remained blank. "By Hunter Hayes . . ."

He made a face. "I hate that guy."

"Take it back!" I laughed, eyes widening in mock horror. "Be nice! He's one of my favorite singers! Take. It. Back," I said over-excitedly, fangirling.

He showed his hands in defense. "Sorry! I'll just change it," he said while clicking a button. He clicked it again, shooting me a playful glare when he heard the intro to "One Thing," by One Direction.

_I was a quick wet boy _

_Diving too deep for coins _

_All of your straight blind eyes _

_Wide on my plastic toys_

He paused thoughtfully when coming across a slow song, "Flightless Bird, American Mouth," by Iron & Wine. "This sounds familiar," he commented.

I nodded. "More people know it than they think. I like it."

He grinned as the music played, holding his hand out. "May I have this dance?"

I bit my lip, staring at his fingers. "What?" he demanded.

I shook my head. "I can't dance," I said simply.

"Oh, come on, everyone says that."'

"No, seriously, I think it's hereditary. My family says that my mother was the same way . . . I _suck_," I summed up.

He rolled his eyes, yanking me off of the bed, one hand holding my waist, his other lacing through my fingers. "Not so bad, now isn't it?"

"You're relentless," I accused, laughing.

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

_Now I'm a fat house cat_

_Nursing my sore blunt tongue_

_Watching the warm poison rats_

_Curl through the wide fence cracks_

_Pissing on magazine photos_

_Those fishing lures thrown in the cold and clean_

_Blood of Christ mountain stream_

[CHORUS]

_Have I found you?_

_Flightless bird, grounded, bleeding_

_Or lost you?_

_American mouth_

_Big pill, stuck going down_

I allowed him to lead me awkwardly, having moments where I wasn't exactly sure that he knew quite what he was doing, causing me to laugh. He twirled me one last time before I stumbled away, laughing as I fell in the bed again.

"Like I said, not so bad," he chuckled, sitting next to me.

I laughed harder. "No, not when you sing like a retarded pig in my ear!"

His jaw dropped. "Watch what you say, or I'll have to start again!" he laughed, his hands shooting out to jumper-cable my sides. I burst into an involuntary giggle fit while he pinned me down, tickling my stomach. I couldn't see much, just his large frame blocking my vision form everything else, not seeming to even struggle to hold me down, no matter how much I giggled and thrashed. I felt like a kid again, having to surrender to this guy, tossing around, trying to throw him off, my abs beginning to hurt from the laughter, which only worsened when he began to sing again - though much louder this time. "Have I found you?! Fliiiiiiiiiiiightless bird!" His voice died out almost instantly when his own laughter erupted, collapsing next to me, his shoulders shaking violently as we laughed.

The last of our chuckles relaxed soon enough, causing both of us to finally sit up. The muscles of my jaw started to ache from what I was sure was a now permanent smile that stretched too far across my face as I looked up at Jake to see if he'd recovered either. He seemed to have gathered himself, smiling his easy grin down at me, his eyes meeting mine. Every time I looked into them, I could swear that I could see forever, feeling warmth and protection flood through me each time. The brown seemed to get deeper and deeper the longer I stared. His eyes never wavered from my face, roaming over every inch, scrutinizing it in a way that was far more intimate than any kiss. But the thing was, I didn't mind. I didn't mind that his eyes were hooded with visible protectiveness, that he didn't seem to want me to leave. I didn't either. He had a way of making me feel normal. Like I belonged. Welcome. Safe.

I didn't know how long we sat there, probably far enough to disturb someone else, given the chance for them to be in the room. We were both leaning in, slowly but surely, unconsciously. Something clicked in the back of my mind, shooting through me like a dart. I knew I wanted to, and also knew that I couldn't hold off forever, but it was too soon, too brotherly, friendly. I used the first thing that I could see as a distraction. "Hey, is that _Romeo and Juliet_?" I asked, pointing to a thin, battered paperback book on his dresser.

His head snapped in the direction, seeming to have been pulled out of deep thought. "Err . . . Um, yeah."

I stumbled to my feet, shuffling over to the dresser to pull the abused copy off of the cluttered surface. "It's one of my favorite stories." I smiled, flipping through the yellowed pages.

I could almost hear a smile in his voice. "Mine too. It's what got me started, you know."

I raised my eyebrow, shooting him a speculative glance.

"Into acting . . ." he hedged.

I nodded, a gesture for him to proceed. He sighed. "It wasn't exactly on purpose. In eighth grade, Embry, Quil - my other best friend who still lives back home - and I made a bet . . . Whoever won had to audition for the school musical . . ." I smiled, leaning in, showing my interest. He grinned. "I didn't get it." I frowned. _Way to build up a story_, I thought. "Which is probably a good thing too. I couldn't sing to save my life," he said, laughing. "But the experience was great enough to cause me to audition for a play instead; I had better luck there. Well, hardly. I was a random townsman. Simply had to gasp, look intrigued, that sort of thing. Just another extra. But I remember watching the leads for the first time . . . I looked up to our Romeo." He smiled, pointing to the title of the withered book in my hand. "He was played by Sam Uley. Great guy. Told me too keep going and going and never stop. He was practically my mentor . . ." He paused.

"What happened?" I asked.

He shook his head, shrugging. "I don't know," he admitted in a gentle voice. "I followed all of his advice. It worked. One day he just stopped talking to me. To everybody. Dropped out of school . . . I haven't heard from him since. Come to think of it, I'm not sure that anyone has." He sighed, rubbing his face. "Some say that he got into drugs, some say that he was arrested, some say that _died_, heaven forbid . . ."

I looked down, not sure of what to say. What _could _I say, I mean really. This was someone who Jacob had looked up to, and had just been swept out of his life. I had to remind myself that it wasn't his first time with that feeling. Wouldn't have been for me either. "I try not to think about that. He was well respected, where I come from, and I refuse to think of him any less than he deserved," he murmured before smiling, his deep-set eyes years away, lost in thought. "I had a favorite part of the play," he said, holding his hand out for the book. I handed it to him without hesitation, hardly able to keep up with his constant change in thought. His large fingers flipped through the pages, finding a place towards the end quickly. "He did this part perfectly, far better than I could have ever done. It's what made me realize that this is what I wanted to do." I looked up at his face, a warm feeling flooding through me when I saw the pure enjoyment and ecstasy that flooded in the chocolate irises of his eyes, the grin on his lips stretching farther. The face couldn't have been more passionate.

I sat down as he recited it. My eyes closed, listening.

"_O here Will I set my everlasting rest _

_And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars_

_From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes look your last!_

_Arms, take your last embrace! And lips, O you_

_The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss_

_A dateless bargain to engrossing death!__"_

I opened my eyes as he ended. *****I sucked in a sharp breath, not expecting his burning gaze. I felt a compelling need to look away, to run out of the house, to get a plane ticket and fly back to Forks, anything to escape the overwhelming emotion that was sent through his stare; but I couldn't. It was as overpowering as it was, it also gave me the will to breathe that I didn't know I didn't have. It filled my lungs with fresh air, compelled my muscles to will me forward in life. It was almost as if he were feeding off of my weakness, but strengthening me all the same. Or was I feeding off of him? I couldn't tell, but it took every fiber of my being to tear my gaze away and blink, keeping my eyes on his abnormally large feet.

"Erm, t-tell me about your friend, Q-Quil," I stammered, taking deep breaths, trying to figure out what had just happened.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "He was originally going to come out to live with us. I was told that I could bring out two friends to live with us. So that was the plan, Quil and Embry . . . Well, we were over at Embry's place, packing up what little he had when Quil's phone rang; it was his girlfriend, Claire, calling to tell him that she was pregnant . . . With _his _child."

He let the words hang in the air, seeming like he wanted to coax some sort of reaction out of me. I wasn't sure how to react. It could be taken so many different ways, I mean, some would look at it as an obstacle, something that just got in the way of what they wanted. Others would think of it as a blessing, a miracle that they never though to wish for. "Her name is Meghan," Jacob said finally, smiling. I couldn't help a small chuckle. "Meghan Joy Ateara-Young. You know, Quil is my second cousin, making her my third. She's two now, and _full _of energy." He laughed. "Doesn't take much to grow an addiction to her. I've only seen her a handful of times, but plenty more over video-chat. Cute kid, too. She's gonna provide some issues for Quil when she hits high school. Those attractive genes must be from the Black side of the family. The very distant, Black side." He grinned. "The first time that I met her, I walked into their house to see her hanging from his belt loop." He shook his head, stifling a laugh. "She'd barely been walking a few months but had already obtained the ability to carry hold herself up with her fist and a piece of denim. Claire was kind of pissed about that one." he grinned. "Kid seriously is adorable, though."

"Talking about me?" We whipped our heads around to see Embry leaning against the doorframe, taking a bite of a red apple, a grin on his face.

Jacob rolled his eyes. "That's funny. Ness, did you hear me say the word _asshole_?" He raised his eyebrows at me.

"No, I didn't," I grinned, playing along.

He looked thoughtful. "Hmm. Must not have been talking 'bout you, then," he said simply, looking back to Embry.

Embry rolled his eyes. "Anyway, Rach and Paul just got home and were about to start on dinner. They were wondering if you would like to stay." He looked at me.

I made a face. "Look, thanks for the offer, but I really don't - "

"She'll stay. We'll be down in a minute," Jake answered for me.

I gaped at him for a moment as Embry started to step into the hallway. "Okay, you two!" he called behind him. We heard a kissy noise as his feet thudded down the stairs. I rolled my eyes.

"Really, Jake, it's fine, I can - "

"No, no, no, you can eat here for one night. You've provided me with a social life outside of an eighteen year old with an X-box addiction, it's the least I can do."

I didn't argue as we went downstairs.

* * *

**A/N: *******The whole "overwhelming emotion" thing was all just kind of an imprint reference, but of course, they can't do that in AH, so for them, it was more of an epiphany thing like, "Holy mother of Spongebob; I cannot live without you!" I don't know, really, I just kept typing and didn't stop. I guess that might have been misplaced but . . . Oh, well. If you like it, then thank you, and if you don't . . . well, I'm sorry. :P

***CHALLENGE TIME* **Do you know the song? (Before you all become smartasses, please let me point out that yes, it is the chapter title, but I wanna know if you know what it's from. Or where _I _got it from at least.) Let me know, and I'll tell you what it's from in the next chapter! :D (Wanted song part longer, but didn't want it to drag.)

What do you think? Make sure to tell me! Thanks for reading! :D


	5. Track 5: Falling For You

**A/N: **Okay, so yeah, out of the few who took the challenge, you were correct! "Flightless Bird, American Mouth," by Iron & Wine, is from both the _Twilight _soundtrack, played in the movie when Edward and Bella danced together at prom, but it's also played when they kiss at their wedding in _Breaking Dawn Part 1_. So yes, you guys got it correct, but no one mentioned that it's from both of those soundtracks. (There's a separate wedding version—though both versions are lovely.) I also intended to update this on my birthday, which was on the second of December so . . . Yeah, we can all agree that that was a total FAIL! Haha. Oh! And a few friends and I made up a word that needs to go into a dictionary: **Ferf: **_**Noun**_**; Someone who washes their hands before going to the bathroom. **(Idk.) So SPREAD THE WORD! Haha. (I am talking a lot.) Please check out the roleplay that I am currently a moderator for, it would mean so much to us, we've been working so hard on getting it back on it's feet again, and the only thing that we need to help is RP-ers, so if you could, then that would be great! ( **Imprinted and Bitten!)**

I apologize for the poorly written dinner and, well, chapter overall. This isn't my best job, but I did my best! Now, I hate the song that I had to choose for this chapter, **("Falling For You," by Colbie Caillat) **but I couldn't think of anything better. So if you can think of something better, please tell me!

One last thing! So I was at school and a girl out of nowhere just says, [seriously; out of NOWHERE!] "I hate it when the cows run away from me. They don't like me anymore. They used to like me, but now they just run away and I'm like, 'Wait! I wanna pet you!'" How random is that?

**PS: **Check out **Cassia4u**. Seriously. Do it or I'm gonna hack your account and make you favorite her and her stories and review every chapter. Scared? You should be. XD

Enjoy! :D

* * *

**Chapter 5: Falling For you**

"So, Nessie, when do you leave LA?" Rachel asked, setting a steaming pan of lasagna on a hot pad, having quickly adapted to Jacob's nickname along with everyone else.

"Um, mid August," I answered simply. "Gotta get back in time to prepare for school."

"Aw, bet that time will fly by. But it's pretty cool of your parents to let you come all the way out." She smiled, taking the seat next to where Paul had three pieces of garlic bread already on his plate.

"Rachel," Jacob nearly scolded, his eyes shooting a warning.

She cocked her head, not understanding. "Jake, I'm sure that she ca—"

"Just don't bother," Jacob's voice raised slightly, causing me to wince. Though younger than his guardians, his voice held authority, ultimatum.

Embry had yet to understand that part. "What the he—"

"Um, yeah, I'm glad that I'm allowed to do this every summer," I interrupted him, eager to talk about something else. I didn't want to start some sort of feud between Jacob and his family. I mean, he meant well, he was only trying to spare my feelings so that I wouldn't break down in front of his family, but I'd rather do that than have him seem to be keeping secrets from them or get into some unnecessary argument.

Rachel bit her lip and nodded, not seeming to want to start Jake again. We passed dishes and bowls around the table, making small talk as we did. But Jacob's words still hung in the air long after the topic had dropped. They were a dull knife hanging from a thinning string. No one dared to bring it up again.

I could feel that Jacob was protective of me, even after just the short time that we'd known each other. Most times when I thought about my heart dropped, knowing that I'd be nothing but a lost memory after August was over. A face in a broken dream, nothing but a pitiful teenage girl who was without a solid shoulder to cry on.

Rachel seemed to be the one to keep the ball rolling with random questions and conversation starters, jumping topics faster than a kangaroo on steroids. I could have sworn that she went the entire time without breathing with the way that she constantly had her mouth going. Finally, the end of dinner came and she brought her dishes to the sink.

"Boys, it's your turn to clean up tonight," she said, directing her message towards Jake and Embry. They both had their mouths open, ready to protest. "Don't argue with me, just do it," she said before they could. Both muttered and grumbled as they obliged, picking up dishes and scraps off of the table. Embry winked at me as Rachel brought me into the living room. Paul followed wordlessly, seeming reluctant to leave her alone.

She sat on the couch, gesturing for me to take a seat as well. I smiled politely, looking down, feeling the awkward air get thicker the longer we sat. "So . . . Tell me about your aunt," she said finally.

I nodded, looking up to meet her gaze. "She's very . . . _Interesting_, I guess would be the best way of putting it." I chuckled, ignore Jacob and Embry's loud clattering and hushed arguing that echoed down the hallway and into the room. "Talented, to say at the very least. Regardless as to _what_, she can definitely teach you _something_. I suppose that she acts younger than she really is. Not that she doesn't pull it off or anything, I mean, for a middle-aged woman, she looks far better than many who are even in their _twenties_. Gorgeous, needless to say. She was actually my dad's twin sister. Both of them were always"—gulp— "very attractive."

I blinked a few times until I knew that I wouldn't break down in front of her. I'd hate to have her feel bad for bringing it up, I knew how it felt to be on that end of that conversation. I took a silent, deep breath before continuing, another sound coming from the kitchen. "But she's awesome, to say the least. It's hard to talk about her in a disrespecting tongue."

She smiled. "She sounds great. You're lucky to—"

She was interrupted by a screeching crash of scratching metal and something shattering in the kitchen. We jumped, Rachel turning to Paul who was lounging in the recliner by the window, his feet dangling off the footrest in a lazy fashion. "Paul."

He lolled his head in our direction, his eyes drooping slightly, on the verge of shutting. "Yeah?"

"Could you please go check on those two dipshits in the kitchen?" She jerked her thumb down the hallway as something else sounded to hit the ground. "Guys, what are you doing in there?" she called, turning her head slightly.

"Nothing," Jake and Embry muttered in unison. Paul sighed, getting off of the his chair to trudge down the hallway.

Rachel turned back to me. "I was saying," she continued, sighing. "You're lucky to have someone like her. As much as nobody wants to admit it, or maybe you do, I guess that's up to you, but every teenager wants a role model. Whether it's their favorite sports star or simply their older cousin, everyone looks up to someone."

"Who did you look up to?" I asked at the same time that we heard Paul's voice echo. "What the fuck did you _do_?!"

Rachel winced, clearly not wanting to see what they had done. "Um . . . it was actually my aunt Sue. I'm not sure why, to be honest with you." She laughed, her eyes distant. "I guess that she was always there for not only me, but everyone. There was this one time when she was picking me, Jacob, my sister Rebecca, and her own kids up from daycare. All of us crammed into her minivan, me riding shotgun, much to Rebecca's dismay," she said, chuckling at the memory, a smile, the same one as Jacob, pulled at her lips. "Everyone else was fighting in the back, arguing over some television show when a grungy man was walking on the side of the road. He had clearly not kept up a hygiene routine in a long time and had not been walking by choice. All of the arguing in the back diminished as she pulled over to the shoulder and told us to stay in the car while she got out to walk up to the man. I couldn't hear what she was saying, only seeing their hand gestures and her kind, understanding smile as she listened to what he had to say. After five minutes or so, she walked over to my door, kindly asking me to move to the middle seat in the back. Now, if it were anyone but Sue, I'd have probably argued like the stubborn twelve year old that I was at the time, but I unbuckled myself and squished myself in between Jake and Seth in the very back seat without question. She quickly brought us to her house where her husband, Harry, my dad, Billy, and their friend, Charlie all were just getting back from fishing. Harry left with her right away while we all waited back at their house, thinking nothing of their absence." She looked at me, her teeth gleaming white in a bright smile. "A few years later I found out what they had done. Sue had heard of a homeless shelter in Seattle and she was bound and determined to take that man there. He willingly went, grateful for her assistance. Harry had always been the more cautious one of the two and went with to ensure his wife's safety."

I smiled, resting my cheek on my fist that I had propped up on the back of the couch. "She sounds amazing. That's a great story," I murmured, smiling.

She smiled back before frowning, looking down at her hands. "Her husband passed away about two years ago. She was absolutely _crushed_, didn't know what to do. I hadn't seen many couples who were quite as in love as they were. She lay on her bed for hours on end, not wanting to drink or eat anything. Anytime that someone would come in to try and help her, she'd send them right back out. Finally they decided to bring one of the kids into it after they'd been keeping them from getting involved in her while she was in that state. Seth walked in and she melted, putty in his hands while she started sobbing. Freaked him out more than he had already been, he was only a fourteen year old boy. His dad had just passed and the person who he'd always thought was so strong started to crumble before his eyes." She sighed. "Seeing all of this, her strength and weakness inspired me to want to be like her. I want to be that for Jacob, someone that he can look up to, someone that he can watch make and learn from mistakes and be able to say, 'I want to be like her, someday.'" She smiled at the thought.

"How the he—oh," Paul muttered from the kitchen, glass clinking together.

"What is going on in there?" Rachel sprung up from the couch suddenly, storming into the kitchen. I froze and then got up to follow when I heard her gasp. "What did you _do_?!"

I came up behind her, raising my eyebrows as Paul was trying to force two broken pieces of a plate together, a large triangle missing from one side of it. He looked up to Rachel, smiling slightly before looking down, embarrassed that the situation had only gotten worse since he'd come.

Water splattered across the floor and up the walls while several sharp shards seemed to poke up in tiny pieces from the linoleum floor. "I told you to _wash _the dishes! How hard is that to understand?!" Rachel nearly screeched, grabbing a wet dish towel off of the countertop to whip his arm with it, water splattering from the force.

Jacob was quick to step over the mess with his unbelievably long legs. "I'm uh, gonna take Nessie home."

He gripped my elbow ushering me quickly through the hall, towards the door. "Don't you _dare _think that you're getting out of this, because I am _not _cleaning this up! You know better than—"

The door shut hurriedly behind us as Jacob burst into a sudden fit of laughter, dropping my arm and throwing his head back. I stared incredulously, trying not to get too close. "What the hell is your problem?"

He grinned as if he'd won the lottery. "We wrecked her entire dish set from trying to _wash _them. How does a normal person do that? C'mon, you got to admit that that's _kind _of funny."

"Not to your sister, obviously."

"So?! The one to fear is Paul and he helped!" Jacob choked out as he started to laugh again.

"Wait, how did that even happen?"

"You don't wanna know."

"I d—"

"Come on, let's just get you home." He stifled a laugh as he threw an arm around my shoulders and guided me to the passenger door.

* * *

Unfortunately, Alice had kept her word. At seven AM she had burst into my room, hauling my ass to the bathroom to get ready for the day; day of _shopping_, that is. I'd originally been planning to just throw on a plain old tee and lounge around the house for the day, but my plans had been rudely delayed when my eager aunt decided that bird-early was a good time to throw me into the bathroom and expect me to be ready in minutes. Well, ready for her, that is.

I hurriedly showered the night away from my body to look as if I'd at least put more effort than stripping out of my clothes and going to bed with my makeup on last night. I had been drying myself off with a towel when my elbow was being gripped by two long, narrow fingers, pulling me to the vanity, causing me to whirl, hiking up my towel as I felt it slip.

"You start getting ready," she demanded before sprinting out of the room, her bare feet padding lightly across the tile.

I rolled my eyes going to her closet with linens, finding it to be convenient that she had several white robes folded neatly on a shelf, making her house seem that much more like a five star hotel rather than the large home of a wealthy aunt. I grabbed one, exchanging the towel for the soft robe, wrapping it around my body and darting back to the sink before Alice popped in with a machine gun for not moving fast enough.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I brushed my teeth hastily, feeling the bristles scratch the insides of my cheeks and my gums. It was always times like these when I wondered why I even tried anymore. My hair looked nearly black, tinted from the water that I had yet to wring out of it, spiraling in an unmanageable, messy disarray around my head. The skin in the mirror was just a few shades of albino, only coloring when my face heated of embarrassment, signaling my obvious thoughts. I supposed that the one thing that I could be proud of having was my eyes, mainly because they'd originally been my mothers, the only thing that I actually _did _have of her. The eyelashes looked near black, coordinating with the dark chocolate color of the iris. I supposed that some may consider them pretty, but yet they went unnoticed, which was understandable. These days, no _one _little quality could stand out unless you do something extravagant. People didn't care about the little things, the little qualities that made a person great. They had to be extraordinarily smart or undeniably gorgeous, or popular, whatever the case, in come situations, no matter how hard one would try; it simply couldn't be enough to the world. If you wanted to prove yourself, prove that you were worthy of their attention for even a mere second.

I had nothing to prove. I was incredibly stubborn, an unfortunate combination of my parents' ability to be reluctant to give in. My ability to do anything physical was an absolute zero, especially dancing. My personality was too awkward to understand the humans around me, making no further friends than neighbors who waved apologetically at me, wondering endlessly about the mysterious girl in the Cullen mansion. There wasn't anything to me that I had to offer, no hopes or dreams. The only one would be to find a way to bring my parents back and share my life with my creators, but that was the one wish that couldn't be granted with a life like mine.

I'd always said that I wanted to go to medical school, study the same practices that my grandfather had. He had always been inspiring to me, completely selfless, never wanting anything more than to cure and improve the quality of life for those around him. His thoughts never swayed from that, either, never growing tired of the great deal of effort and strain that it sometimes took of his life; he just never stopped. I knew even now that retirement was going to be a great battle in itself, knowing that he'd worry about the lives that he wouldn't be able to better, to save.

And I'm sure that those patients were more than thankful for his presence—and not only because he could keep their heart beating. When he walked into a room, women would gasp, waiting until he left to finally exhale while men would turn deep green with envy. Even in his older age, he still stunned even girls as young as myself—much to my horror, of course. Though I guessed that I saw the appeal, I mean, it was hard not to be somewhat shocked at his still-healthy, shiny, golden hair flecked with gray in certain lighting that only made him more wise, his pale blue eyes that seemed to stare right into you, not missing a thing.

"Okay, so I picked out a few things," Alice started, leaning in the doorway, causing me to jump, toothpaste dripping off of my chin.

I grimaced as I rinsed my chin off, before going back to brushing my teeth. "It's supposed to be nice out today, so I thought maybe these." She threw a few articles of clothing at me as I tried to catch them, hooking my finger on the collar of a shirt, still managing to keep the toothbrush from falling. I nearly jumped when something hard hit me on the foot, shooting a look at Alice before glancing at the object in distain.

"Alice," I started, picking up the shoe. "I'm not wearing _heels _shopping. Anywhere else, sure, whatever but you know that _this_," I shook the floral wedge in my hand. "cannot end well."

"But they'll look great with the shirt! And your legs will look so long!" she complained, pouting like a child. I resisted a laugh.

"Alice! I can get myself ready without your assistance. I promise not to jump out of the window to get away from you, I promise not to run away from you when we're in town."

"But I—"

"Alice," I warned, feeling like more of an adult than she was.

She sighed, closing the door, finally leaving me to get ready.

A half hour later, I sat shotgun while Alice was speeding down the road in her canary yellow Porsche 911 Turbo. I couldn't help my smile when we passed Jacob's house, something that my observant aunt didn't miss. "What are you smiling about over there?"

I sighed. "Nothing."

"You lie like your mother."

"Oh? And how do I tell the truth?"

"Like your father. Always blunt and sometimes spoken too soon." She smirked, laughing.

I rolled my eyes, staring out the window, watching the monster houses fly by.

"So, what is it?"

"It's nothing, Alice."

She snorted. "Did I not just tell you how you lie? You suck at it. Come on, no one would be in this much denial unless it involved a boy," she teased, a smile hinting in her voice.

"It's nobody," I snapped.

"So it _is _someone!"

"Alice, ple—"

She interrupted me. "No! Come on, you know that you can't win! Just tell me his name, what he looks like, _anything_!" she begged, sounding like a fourteen year old fangirl.

"I never said it was a guy," I pointed out, my blush giving me away as I turned to face her.

"Renesmee, _please_?" she pleaded, her speed slowing slightly.

I sighed, biting my lip. "Um . . . So, his name is Jacob."

She beamed at the windshield as we finally left the private neighborhood. "Hmm . . . It's . . . biblical? I don't know, that's a common name, you can't leave me hanging with that."

"He's, err—tall?" I said like a question, raising my eyebrows at her. I cursed my inability to keep these types of things secret. Granted, I'd probably be spotted with him soon enough and she'd find out that way, being one of those people who are very up-to-date with social networking.

"And? Is he cute?" she asked, jumping right to her top question.

I blushed. "Um—well, he—he's not _un_attractive."

A squeal squeaked out from her throat, speaking at record speed. "I _knew _it! I _knew _that there were hormones in you! Rosalie and I had been making bets on when you might finally say yes to Nahuel, I mean, let's be honest, _look _at the kid—you can't turn that down forever. Unless you're a lesbian of course, which that thought actually occurred to me the other day, though you still could be bisexual, and even if you were, that would be completely fine with that because I totally support it, but now I know that you're not because you _like _him! Ooh! What if—"

"Alice!" I choked out, cutting her off, resisting the urge to duct tape her mouth shut.

"Yes?" she asked, excitement causing her already soprano voice to climb up an octave.

I heaved a sigh. "I never said that I liked him."

She looked over at me once we'd stopped at a red light. After a few moments of awkward silence, she snorted. "Okay, _Bella_."

I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped.

"You _liiiiiiike _him! You want to _kiiiiiiiss _him!"

"Don't quote _Miss Congeniality_," I muttered, annoyed.

"Oh, you know it's true!" she teased, her right arm reaching over to nudge my shoulder.

"No, I don't."

"Oh, come on, I'm just teasing you! Do you have a picture?" she hedged.

I checked my phone, surprised that I didn't. It was probably better that way anyway, but still. "No, I don't."

"Seriously? You suck. You finally get someone to flirt with and you don't even have a keepsake of what he looks like."

"Just friends—"

"Hey, at least you have a friend," she mused, finding a parking spot in front of a large mall.

I nearly gaped at her as I stepped out of the vehicle, shutting the car door a bit harder than necessary. "Is that a jab at social status?"

"Let's be honest, how many sleepovers did you have as a child?" she asked, linking her arm in mine as we walked towards the huge building that took up probably eight blocks worth of space.

"A few, but can you blame me for being at the bottom of the popularity chart? You guys have had me bottled up in a little bubble since I was in Grandpa's custody!"

She looked hurt. "Renesmee, that's not what we mean to—"

"But that's how it is!"

"You think we do it to keep you from being happy? Of course not! This is what your parents wanted, we're honoring their will! What do you want us to do, spit on their grave?!"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, pulling my arm from hers as I walked faster into the mall, shoving through the doorway.

"Renesmee, you don't know your way around!" I heard Alice call from behind me.

"I'll find my own way!" I barked back at her as I moved through a thick crowd of people.

Tears were already welling in the corners of my eyes, one daring to slip down my cheek. I could feel a few gazes on my face as I made my way, glancing down hallways, searching for a bathroom where I could save my tears for private.

I couldn't believe that she of all people would mention what happened, was she simply desensitized to it? Did she not _care _anymore? Alice _knew _that I was sensitive to the subject! If it were anyone else who didn't know anything, sure, I'd feel the stab of guilt, the knife twisting the memories that were just enough to tease me of what I never got to have, the only thing I'd ever wanted, but she _knew _all too well, she _knew _and felt the _pain _herself.

I felt a single sob escape my chest, the lump in my throat growing thicker as I tried not to break down in the middle of the mall, not wanting to make a scene. Finally, finding a hall, I sprinted down once I was out of the main crowd's view, hoping to find a restroom somewhere along the long, pale blue walls. I was beginning to lose faith in finding someplace to let it out when I only saw utility rooms and an emergency exit at the end, but let out a shaky sigh of relief when two more doors peeked out just before. If I hadn't been so damn determined to find them, I'd have completely overlooked their metal trim that matched the walls that they nearly blended in to. My blurred vision finally picked up on a sign with a symbol of a woman in a dress.

I wasted no time pushing through the door, my hand flying up to wipe the salt water from my face once the door shut behind me. There was yet another long hall that I had to round before making it to the stalls, but I hardly cared. I leaned against the tile wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the ground, hugging my knees to my chest.

I thought back to the few memories that I had of them, one of the dimmest being a birthday party. I was probably turning about three or four, I hardly remembered it, but I cherished it more than anyone would ever know. My hair was a lot shiner and curlier than it was now, bouncing in front of my eyes just as I was about to blow out, well, more like _spit _on, my birthday cake, thick with red and white frosting, Elmo from Sesame Street's face printed on the top. I felt cool fingers brush my curls back before all of the candles were blown out, only a little smoke rising from the hot wax. Before anyone could stop me, my fingers were reaching out to touch the charred blackness on the top, curious to the feel. I screamed, stomping on the chair that I was standing on when I felt heat sear into my tiny hand.

"Whoa, sweetheart, what's wrong?" I felt my grandma Esme's hands me from the chair in an instant, thick worry in her voice.

I didn't know how to respond, the only thing that I could think to do was scream, hot tears pouring down my chubby cheeks. I didn't even think of what my grandmother had said, all that I could even think about was the pink spot that swelled up from the candle.

"What happened? Is she okay?" my Daddy's panicked voice came from the opposite side of the room where he had been managing a cam-corder for the past hour. He rushed over, looking me over head to toe.

"Daddy!" I screeched, reaching out towards him, my hysterics climbing when my hand brushed his shirt.

"Edward, I think she burned herself," Esme said, finally spotting the redness of my spread fingers.

"Bella? Could you get a wet cloth?" he called behind him, wiping a few tears from my cheeks.

"What about ice instead?" Esme wondered, her voice close.

Daddy shook his head, a single strand of his dark hair falling down onto his forehead from it's usual, messy, rolled-out-of-bed style. "She has no tolerance for ice. It's too cold, so she refuses to touch it."

I sniffled, whining to get his attention again. "You're fine, sweetheart," he cooed softly, stroking my hair, my tears running dry.

"What did you need this fo—oh," I heard Mommy's voice come closer, my head whipping towards the sound, whimpering again as I held my still-hurting hand to her.

"Mommy," I murmured, as if I didn't have her attention already, more than overjoyed to see her kind brown eyes meet mine, smiling apologetically as the made her way to me.

I felt a cold washcloth wrap around my hand, causing me to try and jerk away. Her hand just held mine in place, making sure that the cloth stayed on it. "Shhh. It's okay, baby."

I swallowed breathily, resting my cheek on my Daddy's shoulder, feeling his lips press into my hair. "Did you get an owie, sweetie?" she asked in a soft tone, brushing hair from my forehead.

I nodded slightly, blinking as the pain started to ease. It still hurt, but not near as much. Far more manageable. I huffed lightly while my daddy rocked me softly in his arms, my eyes drooping from my sobbing. Soon enough I drifted to sleep hearing the endearing voice of my father singing in my ear.

A small bang from somewhere caused me to jump out of my reverie, gasping. The bathroom suddenly seemed colder, the collar of my shirt sticking to my chest for it was damp with my many tears and sweat. I stood, trying to steady myself as I went deeper into the restroom.

I must have looked like hell, feeling that some of my dark curls were matted together in the back, feeling sweaty and weak, knowing that my eyes would be rimmed red for the next hour.

I was about to check myself in the mirror, make myself look a little more like I had before when an arm suddenly had me in an all-too-tight headlock, a dirty hand covering my mouth.

I screamed as loud as my straining throat would allow, sure that no one would hear my thin, weak sobs as a masculine, strong man hauled me down the corridor, back out of the bathroom and shoving the emergency exit.

"Enough! Not one more word out of you!" the voice of the man restraining me barked in my ear, his voice unattractive and sadistic.

"James! Hurry up!" a French-accented voice hissed in an urgent tone. I could barely see, my vision starting to go black as oxygen went thinner and thinner to my brain. The headlock was choking off my air supply, unable to scream anymore, only flailing my limbs weakly and uselessly as we stumbled down the concrete sidewalk.

"You're gonna, cut this out NOW! You're gonna get in the fucking van and not say another word! Stop struggling!" Something kicked the back of my knees, causing them to fold under me, making it easier for _James _to haul me along.

"Wha—Nessie?!" I heard a familiar voice from behind me shout, bolding forward before I had time to react, a tanned arm swung out in front of my face, only a few inches from hitting me, thankfully hitting my captor.

I fell to my knees, my hands clasping at my burning throat as I heard a scuffle and then a car screeching away, gasping for air as I looked up at my savior.


	6. Hiatus

**Author's Note**

*sighs*

. . . I hate this. I hate this so much! I vowed to never do this, but I've been left no choice.

I'm . . . I'm simply putting She's My Kind of Rain on hiatus. I can't seem to find it in me to keep up with it these days, and though I have thought about putting up the story up for "adoption," I find the idea of someone else writing my own thoughts somewhat painful, repulsing even. I believe that if someone starts a story, that _they _should finish it, not someone else.

So that's what I'm gonna do; just not right now. This is simply a hiatus, I can't deal with this particular story at the moment, but I will eventually, I promise!

I am deeply sorry to keep you waiting, but I need some time away from this right now. I love you guys, thanks for the support!

**PS. **The reason that I did this is because I'm too engrossed in another fanfic right now, a crossover of Twilight and The Vampire Diaries, so keep an eye out if you perhaps ship Renesmee Cullen and Damon Salvatore! ;)

Love you!


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